


Three Strikes

by Shadow_Side



Series: Chiralityverse [3]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Multi, established threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 65,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4044982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Side/pseuds/Shadow_Side
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Night Vale is saved, Desert Bluffs is saved, and everything is fine. Everything is just <i>fine</i>. Then Carlos finds out his father is coming to visit, and there's rather a lot about his life that he hasn't explained yet.</p><p>And <i>then</i> Cecil announces he's arranged a surprise. A special surprise. Only, it turns out the surprise has a surprise of its own in store…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shadow Bowling

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are again!
> 
> It's been a few months, and work on this one has been slower than I would like. _Much_ slower. This is primarily because of real-life issues – so far in 2015, I've managed to have actual flu twice and been at genuine risk of losing my job (mercifully, I didn't) – and as a result I haven't been writing nearly as often as I would like. But I wanted to let those of you still with me know that this series _is_ progressing, so here are the first couple of chapters to give you a taste of what Part Three has in store!
> 
> There is – I will finally admit – a second reason that work on this part has been delayed, and that's because I have been working on a side-project. A Chiralityverse-related side-project. So if you've enjoyed this series so far – and in particular if you're a fan of my Kevin – you might want to keep your eye on my story feed, because something else will be starting to appear soon… ;-)
> 
> Returning to the subject at hand, the chapter titles for this one are all ten-pin bowling terms. Given that I know even less about bowling than I do about the complexities of thermodynamics, you have Wikipedia to thank this time around!

**Shadow Bowling**

_Bowling without pins; a practice or warm-up session, enabling focus on technique rather than scores._

***

Lightning never strikes twice in the same place.

This has been a fact well-known to science for years. Or so people say. What less of them seem to realise is that sometimes lightning _does_ strike _three_ times in the same place.

Exactly how this works, without overruling the earlier premise, is very hard to determine. Even in Night Vale.

It's something Carlos would very much like to explain. One of several different somethings all in need of explanation, and all very prevalent in his mind this particular morning.

It's early, but he's been up for a while already, even though it's Saturday. He's been up and doing science and drinking a great deal of coffee, which helps – both with the science and the general being-awake thing.

And also… also with the _other_ thing.

But Carlos isn't thinking about the other thing. Carlos doesn't _need_ to think about the other thing. All Carlos needs is to do some science and drink some more coffee and possibly try to solve the whole lightning quandary.

Science. Lovely science. Lovely soothing, distracting, helpful science.

He scrawls something on his chalkboard, stares at it for a moment, then rubs it out and starts again. Before long, there are equations covering the whole surface, curling round the gaps at the edges, making use of every available inch of space. It's hard to say how _helpful_ the equations are, scientifically-speaking, but they certainly fulfil at least one of their purposes.

"…Carlos?"

The sound of his own name makes him jump, and decide that he should probably check on the experiment he's running into static charge over on one of the workbenches. Carlos hurries over, examining the readouts and completely forgetting to answer the speaker.

"Carlos?" Cecil says, for the second time, sounding a little more alarmed now. "Carlos, are you OK?"

Carlos glances over, seeing that both Cecil and Kevin have just walked in. Both men are still in their dressing gowns, having clearly not been awake long, and they're watching him with concern in their eyes.

Their eyes really are interesting. The most different part of them, when it all comes down to it – save perhaps for Kevin's lingering propensity towards ending up covered in blood – and thereby a point of some significance. Maybe Carlos should look into that some more, once he's done with the lightning thing.

He leaves the static-charge experiment and hurries back to the chalkboard.

"Carlos?" Kevin now tries, as the two doubles walk further into their boyfriend's lab.

"Everything is fine," Carlos says, without looking over at them.

Because it's true. Everything is. Everything is absolutely fine and nothing whatsoever is wrong.

And it's time for more coffee. Carlos picks it up, drains what's left, and then reaches for the pot to pour himself a fresh cupful.

"How long have you been awake?" Cecil asks, in his most concerned voice.

"Awake?" Carlos repeats. "Uhm… not sure. Some time. But time isn't real. So… not sure."

He downs a good amount of his new cup of coffee, then sets it on the bench and hurries back to his chalkboard.

Hmmm. The bottom-left corner is wrong. Isn't it? He rubs it out and starts re-scrawling fresh equations in the gap.

"Carlos!" Cecil interjects, a little more urgently, stepping up behind him and putting both hands on his shoulders. Carlos jumps at the contact, but as well as being alarming it's also very lovely, and it's just enough to pull him back to the present.

"…Everything is fine?" he insists.

Gently – albeit firmly as well – Cecil turns him away from the board. Kevin steps in closer at that, carefully prying the chalk from Carlos' hand and then locking fingers with him, holding on.

"Carlos," Kevin says, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Carlos replies, wondering if he should have more coffee now. "Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine!"

"…I don't think that statement means what you think it means," Cecil says, still standing behind him and keeping a firm hold on his shoulders.

"It does in Night Vale," Carlos insists.

"…Touché," Cecil concedes. "But even so. You can tell us. You know that."

Carlos does know that. He also doesn't want to tell them. And he _also_ doesn't stand a chance if they decide to try being persuasive.

Although… no.

"…Over there," he says, softly, gesturing to the furthest workbench. There's nothing on it right now save for an envelope, with his name and address on the front: an envelope that has already been opened.

Cecil and Kevin exchange a careful look, and then Kevin lets go of Carlos and walks over to pick up the envelope. The envelope that contains a letter.

He pulls it out and reads it. Then he glances back at Carlos, staring more than a little.

"Is it bad news?" Cecil asks, nervously.

"No," Kevin replies. "Not at all. It… Carlos?"

He might as well just say it. "…My dad is coming to visit."

There's an odd silence. Cecil lets go of Carlos, moving around enough to meet his eyes. "Is… that a bad thing?" he asks, very carefully.

"No," Carlos insists. "Not at all. It's… it's just…"

Kevin paces closer again, with that letter still in hand. "In this, he says… he says he finally tracked you down. Why are you hiding from him?"

Carlos sighs, starting to regret all the coffee now because it's interacting unhelpfully with the adrenaline. "I'm not. Well… I'm not doing it _deliberately_. It just sort of…"

Cecil gives him a very careful look. "He… knows you're into guys, right?"

"Hm? Oh, sure. I think he worked it out before I did."

"And he's… OK with it?"

"Completely OK."

"So… why are you hiding from him?"

Carlos drops onto the nearest chair. "I… sort of went dark after… after I first moved to Desert Bluffs. I mean, I didn't think he'd react well to the place… _I_ didn't react well to the place, not back then, and… and when I…"

He trails off, not wanting to talk about the part with the hostile takeover and – more significantly – the break-up. Kevin moves closer still and takes Carlos' hand, pulling it in against himself. "It's OK," he insists. "We're all here now. You can talk about it if you need to."

It still isn't easy. "…When I left Desert Bluffs, I just wanted to hide from my life full-stop," Carlos goes on, after a moment. "I cut ties with everyone – even people who had nothing to do with the place – and ran off to San Francisco. I… well, I know now I shouldn't have done it. Toby proved that to me. And then… then I came _here_ and… and there was the whole thing with Cecil, and then Strex, and the three of us, and… well, I may have lost touch with my dad. A bit."

Try 'for over three and a half years'. He hadn't really _meant_ to do it. It just sort of… happened. Or, technically, _didn't_ happen. And the longer he left it, the harder it seemed to fix.

And then… this.

"So he finally made contact?" Cecil says.

"More… he finally _found_ me," Carlos admits. "I didn't really say much about where I was going. I was used to moving around a lot."

"He clearly still wants to see you," Kevin points out, and he's right, of course. "And if there's nothing bad between you… why are you so worried?"

"Because… because I'm not sure how he'll react to… this. All of this. Everything. The whole part where there's _three_ of us. And the whole part where I co-bought a house in a remote desert town with the obvious intention of staying for… well. Forever."

Cecil moves in closer too, taking Carlos' other hand and holding it tight. "Carlos… if he cares about you, he won't mind. He'll just want you to be happy. He'll be glad that you are."

"…I know," Carlos concedes. "But I still worry."

"Evidently," says Kevin, with a wry smile. "Do you actually have caffeine poisoning yet, or are you just working towards it?"

"…I think maybe I have it," Carlos has to admit, mostly because he's shaking too much to get away with denying anything.

Cecil and Kevin, standing over him, exchange a glance.

"Should we help calm you down?" Cecil asks.

"…Please."

So they do.

***

It's a week later.

Carlos has had time to process everything now, but it hasn't removed the worry altogether. Or at all, if he's being honest. He's done his best not to dwell on it, but the fact of the matter is that he hasn't seen his father for over three years and he has no idea how the man is going to react when he finds out what his son has been doing with his life.

How do you even _explain_ something like this to someone who isn't familiar with Night Vale's little… eccentricities? It took Carlos _months_ to make even vague sense of the place, and there's still plenty that leaves him blinking in shock or alarm on a regular basis.

And more than that… the particulars of his own life aren't exactly normal, either. Indeed, when Carlos takes a mental step back and looks at it, he's still aware that the last three years pretty much defy explanation. He ran away from the first boyfriend he'd had in _forever_ after learning that the man had – _has_ – leanings towards occasionally killing people and regularly summoning his own personal demon. After a spate of self-inflicted exile in San Francisco, Carlos then moved to the town _next to_ the previous one, discovered it was full of doubles of people from the first, and then fell in love with the double of his own ex.

But only _after_ the citizens of the miniature city under the bowling alley tried to kill him whilst said soon-to-be-boyfriend reported it all live on the radio.

And _then_ there's the whole part with the invasion by the corporate superpower, the reunion with his ex, the massive rebellion, and the day he ended up in a relationship with both his former ex and his former ex's chiral double.

How do you explain something like that?

The answer, alas, is that it's _easy_ compared to trying to explain what came _next_. Miniature cities under bowling alleys are one thing, but massive cursed crystals with overwhelming mind-control powers are quite something else. As is the full-on revolution that he and his two not-entirely-identical boyfriends accidentally ended up leading in the town next door, along with a collection of people from both towns that included a number of angels, a five-headed dragon hell-bent on becoming mayor, a teenage superhacker, a sentient computer who could predict the future, and a fellow scientist with a propensity for building death rays in his spare time; to say _nothing_ of the half-demon businesswoman, her wife the necromancer, and their ongoing drive to save the world via the medium of breakfast.

The fact that said experience involved – amongst other things – time travel, far too much blood, physics-defying weather balloons and a brief trip to another plane of existence probably doesn't help either.

It's been several months since the revolution in Desert Bluffs and – truth be told – things are going very well indeed. Strexcorp is stable and non-evil under Naomi Hartley's control, Hiram McDaniels is having _far_ too much fun as Desert Bluffs' new mayor, and ties between the city and its chiral twin Night Vale have never been stronger. Or anywhere near as positive.

And that's good. It's really, really good, and it makes everything they went through at the start of the summer completely worthwhile.

But it doesn't make it any easier to explain to someone who isn't used to this kind of thing. And Carlos doesn't know how he's going to do it.

"What time is your dad due?" Cecil asks, settling next to Carlos at the breakfast table. Kevin is making pancakes (how the Secret Police still haven't caught on to his demon's flour-smuggling activities, Carlos isn't quite sure) and humming to himself, though he turns to look at them when Cecil speaks.

"Mid-afternoon," Carlos answers. "His flight lands just after two, I think. Although you do not want to know how difficult it was to get the aviation authorities to confirm that the flight in question actually exists."

"That happens a lot," Cecil tells him, understandingly. "But things have been pretty good recently and it shouldn't be a problem. We'll be at the radio station when he arrives, so you'll have a chance to settle him in before we get home."

Carlos nods. And he must look as concerned as he still feels, because Kevin steps up behind him, gently rubbing his shoulders. "Honestly, it's going to be fine," he insists, in his most sensible tone of voice. "If he's anything like you – and it sounds like he is – then I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

"I know," Carlos says, although stopping the worry altogether is entirely another matter.

They have breakfast. Kevin really does make the _best_ pancakes – even if they are somewhat illegal – and then Carlos decides that some science is called for. He's working from home today, so that he'll be here when his dad arrives, and because it's probably wise that he spares the rest of the team from his current state of mind.

The morning starts to pass, at whatever rate time is pretending to move in Night Vale today. Carlos is vaguely aware that Cecil is in the living room – probably writing one of his editorials for the show – and that Kevin is in the back garden.

It's usually best not to ask questions. The fact that Desert Bluffs is no longer entirely drenched in blood has not stopped many of its citizens – current and ex-pat alike – from ending up that way on a regular basis. Usually for religious reasons.

Sometimes for other reasons.

Hence the part about it being best not to ask questions. Carlos generally just leaves Kevin to it, and tries to focus on science instead.

He can't focus on much right now, though. Especially seeing as his two oh-so-helpful boyfriends have decided there's sufficient merit in rationing his coffee supply.

Honestly. You end up wired off your head one time. One time! Or two! Per week!

It's late morning when Carlos hears the distant knock at the door. He's working on his static-charge experiment again so he doesn't pay the sound much mind, and it's only when he hears Cecil calling his name that he realises he should have done.

"Carlos? You have a visitor."

…Oh no. Trust time to betray him now, of all… well, times.

Carlos takes a deep breath and paces out of the lab, along through the living room and into the hall, and…

Cecil is standing at the open front door, and there's a second man on the threshold: a man who looks a lot like an older, more willowy version of Carlos himself. He's dressed in a neat, dark-grey suit, with the thin chain of a silver watch emerging from one pocket.

"Carlos?" he says.

His son takes another deep breath. "Hey, Dad."

Hugging is called for at this point, right? Carlos decides to try it. He closes the distance between himself and his father and gives the man a hug and is more than a little relieved to find he's being hugged back.

"I'm sorry to turn up so early," his father says, as they break apart. "My flight got in rather sooner than I expected… and, indeed, nearly four hours before it took off, even taking the time difference into account. The lady at the arrivals desk said that happens a lot around here, so I decided not to question it."

"You get used to that sort of thing," Carlos replies, a little wryly, and then finds all the nervousness dialling up as he gestures between Cecil and his father. "So… uh… Dad, this is Cecil, my boyfriend. Uhm… one of my boyfriends. Cecil, this is my dad."

"Call me Atilio," his father says, as he and Cecil shake hands. There's an obvious flicker of surprise on his face at the 'one of my boyfriends' line, but he's still smiling.

"It's good to finally meet you," Cecil tells him. "Welcome to Night Vale."

For a fleeting second, Carlos can almost believe that everything really _is_ fine. His life being what it is, however, it's at this point that he hears the back door click open and Kevin come pacing through from the kitchen.

"Carlos, we heard voices, is everyth– …ah. Oh. Hello."

Ah yes, tempting fate. Because Night Vale has _such_ a sense of humour when you tempt fate.

Kevin is covered in blood. His knife isn't drawn, but that doesn't really make a great deal of difference at this point, because it's obvious from his easy pace and his smile that the blood isn't his own.

Carlos has to fight the urge to facepalm. Or run for the hills.

"…Ah… Dad, so… this is Kevin. My – our – other boyfriend. Uhm… Kevin, this is my dad, Atilio."

There's a very weird moment when Kevin and Atilio meet eyes, and Carlos could almost believe that even _this_ is going to be OK…

…except _then_ he processes what Kevin said when he first walked in.

'We heard voices'.

 _We_.

There's a few low thuds from the living room, and then Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty wanders in. And in the grand scheme of it all, Carlos really shouldn't have been worrying about the whole two-boyfriends-thing, should he? Not when the eight-foot-demon-thing is _way_ more of an issue.

"…Uh… is he your boyfriend too?" Atilio asks, looking – and sounding – suddenly alarmed. Understandably alarmed, really. And he's still reacting better than _Carlos_ did when _he_ first met Azatothoth, although that is not a helpful memory and Carlos could really do without it.

"No!" Carlos insists rapidly. "He's Kevin's demon."

This is better, but – he realises – not by a great deal.

"I… see," Atilio manages.

"…Would you like to come in?" Cecil asks, recovering faster than Carlos.

"…Yes," Atilio replies, with an – understandable – hint of hesitation.

Although, him now being in the hallway doesn't change the part where Kevin is still covered in blood with an eight-foot demon at his side. Nor does it make working out what to say any easier.

Azatothoth gives a low rumble. "…This is a bad time, isn't it?"

"Why would you think that?" Carlos replies, a good octave higher than usual. And then, because trainwrecks are simply _so_ much fun, he adds, "Kevin… why is the demon here?"

"…We weren't expecting company just yet, and I wanted to check in with him," Kevin answers, having the good grace to sound slightly apologetic. "And I had a couple of minor rites to perform, so I decided to combine it all. And… OK, this… this isn't as bad as it looks."

"Do you _often_ end up covered in blood?" Atilio somehow manages to ask.

"…Yes?" Kevin says, as if not quite sure how much he's supposed to admit to before they've even made it to the living room. And it would be really very adorable under other circumstances.

But it's under these circumstances. And the hills still feel within running distance.

Azatothoth folds his arms. "So, Kevin, who's your guest?"

Oh yes, introductions. Because meeting the parents should _always_ include any soul-bound demons. Right.

"…Azatothoth, this is my father, Atilio," Carlos jumps in, attempting to grasp some kind of control over the situation. "Dad… this is Merciless Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty, Seventeenth Adjunct to the Fourth Infernal Plane."

"…Oh," Atilio manages. "Uh. Right. Nice to meet you."

"Indeed," the demon rumbles, before looking at his summoner. "I should go, yes?"

"…Might be wise," Kevin concedes. "We'll talk next time."

"Kevin, I can't _wait_ ," Azatothoth says, with far too much relish in his voice, before disappearing in a burst of unholy light.

When he's gone, there's a very odd, very long silence. This in itself is not a surprise. How you're supposed to respond to what's just happened is, quite frankly, beyond Carlos.

"So, Carlos… you're dating twins?"

Oh good. This part now.

"No, Dad, they're not twins. They're identical doubles. Well, mostly identical."

"I… see," Atilio manages. "How does that even work?"

"It's… it's a sort of quirk round here," Carlos tries. "Night Vale and Desert Bluffs – which is its sister city, just to the south – are… well, a little unusual. _Scientifically-interesting_ , I always say. And… quite a lot of the people in Night Vale… pretty much all of them, with a few even more interesting exceptions… have doubles in Desert Bluffs. And Kevin is Cecil's. Double, I mean."

"I… see," Atilio says, again.

"You get used to it," Cecil cuts in, smoothly, in what Carlos thinks must be a noble attempt to save the whole situation. 

"You really do," Kevin agrees. "Can we get you something? Coffee, maybe?"

"That… would be good, thank you."

Yes, coffee. Coffee will make it all better.

Or the other thing.

***

It isn't long before Cecil, Carlos and Atilio are sitting at the table in the kitchen, with a mug of coffee each. Kevin has gone off to deal with all the blood, though Carlos knows – from regular first-hand experience – that the man won't be absent for long.

"So, Carlos… tell me what you've been up to," Atilio asks. He seems to be handling everything better than Carlos might have expected, had he actively considered the possibility that his dad would arrive four hours early and be faced with… well. What he ended up being faced with.

"Uhm… well, I've been living in Night Vale for nearly two and a half years," Carlos starts off. Best to begin with the safe parts… although he knows he's rapidly going to run out of those. "I'm leading a team of scientists based in the city."

"That sounds like fun," his father replies. "What sort of research do you do?"

"All kinds," Carlos says. "We have a very varied list. Although, in particular, we've done a lot of work in seismology, on account of the massive earthquakes no one can feel, and a fair amount of chronology, on account of time not working here."

Atilio stares at him. "…Time doesn't work here?"

Carlos shakes his head. "Not at all. It's really very strange. Oh, and you should be careful if you happen to take apart any of the clocks whilst you're in Night Vale. There have been… incidents."

This makes Cecil look a little surprised. "…Do you often have cause to take clocks apart?" he says to Atilio.

The older man smiles. "He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me?"

"I'm a clockmaker. Well, I'm retired now, but I still do it a little, for fun."

Cecil stares between the two of them. "I had no idea. It explains a few things, though."

Atilio smiles some more. "I take it my son still has a tendency towards the same?"

"Oh yes," Cecil tells him. "It's completely adorable. So long as you're not in an immediate rush to find out what time it supposedly is."

Carlos tries to give Cecil a 'stop-making-me-blush-in-front-of-my-dad' look, but he's not wholly confident it works.

" _Anyway_ ," he goes on, trying to regain some vague control over the conversation, "you should come meet my team whilst you're here. They're an interesting group of people but very friendly, once you get used to them. And I guess you remember Toby?"

"Oh, your roommate from college?" Atilio replies. "I forgot this was his hometown. How is he?"

"He's good. He was the one who recruited me to lead the team."

"Well, he always was smart. Did anything ever come of his relationship with… oh, I've forgotten her name. The pretty redhead?"

"Arlene," Carlos says. "And yes, he married her."

"I'm glad to hear it. They always were a lovely couple. And… you seem to have made some progress in that direction yourself. More than I expected, in fact." His father gives him a careful look. "You want to tell me how it happened?"

Carlos is not at all sure how he's supposed to explain it. There being three of them is tricky enough, but when you combine it with _how_ they ended up together… well. Night Vale isn't exactly a conventional place, and the logic of it – or lack thereof – can be quite bewildering if you're not used to it.

It's a feeling Carlos remembers all too clearly. And, to be honest, still experiences more often than he would like to admit.

His dad gives him an oddly understanding look. "Carlos. I'm only asking because I care. And because I'd like to know about the important people in your life."

"All right," Carlos says. It's going to be weird, though. Partly because it's his dad, and partly because he's not sure he's ever told the whole story all the way through. He's told sections of it to different people, but never all of it to one person. "I… OK. It starts back when I first took a job in Desert Bluffs."

"Desert Bluffs? That's the sister-city to the south?"

"Yes. Though, at that point, relations between the two cities were… not so good. I took a job in Desert Bluffs without really knowing anything about the place, and moved there, and… well. It was… it was interesting."

"But that's Desert Bluffs for you!" comes Kevin's voice, from the kitchen doorway. He paces in, bloodless once more and looking as close to normal as a knife-carrying man with obsidian-black eyes ever can. "It's different now, though, but some things don't change. The warmth, the happiness, the _productivity_. Oh yes. Happiest place on Earth, hands-down."

"…You know you scare me when you get nostalgic about the old days?" Carlos points out, hoping his dad won't ask too many questions about this part. The last thing he wants is to have to explain how he moved to a town drenched in blood and _stayed_ there for months. Or, indeed, why there was a town drenched in blood in the first place.

"Of course," Kevin replies, brightly. "That's why I do it!" He moves to pour himself a cup of coffee, joining them at the table. "So," he goes on. "Where are we up to?"

"Atilio is a clockmaker," Cecil tells him, looking far too delighted by his discovery.

Kevin's expression lights up. "Seriously? Wow, that explains a lot."

"I know, right?"

"…Oh, shush," Carlos says, trying not to blush again. "And in _actual_ answer to your question, I am apparently explaining how the three of us ended up together."

"Oooh, excellent, that's a good story," Kevin replies.

And, OK, yes, it mostly is. It just has bits that you don't tell your dad. Carlos only has to hope that Kevin – and, indeed, Cecil – won't decide to add some of these parts in. They are, after all, both consummate storytellers who love to talk.

Especially about him.

"…So I moved to Desert Bluffs," Carlos re-starts, going for broke. "I met Kevin, and he invited me to do an interview on his radio show, and shortly after that we started dating. We dated for a few months, and then… uhm… then I left."

His dad headtilts. "You left?"

"Yeah. The… job wasn't working out."

"Come, now, Carlos, you don't have to leave out the rest," Kevin interjects. Carlos would very much like to leave out the rest, given that it constitutes one of the worst days of his life, but Kevin apparently has other ideas. "Carlos discovered some things about me that he had previously been unaware of," he goes on, turning his attention back to Atilio. "One was the fact that I can summon demons, and the other was that – at the time – I was working as the fixer-slash-hitman for the CEO of the corporate superpower that ran Desert Bluffs at the time."

Carlos drops his head forward onto the tabletop and leaves it there. Atilio, meanwhile, looks equal parts horrified and intrigued; proving – if nothing else – that he's more like his son than either of them would freely admit.

"…I thought you were a radio presenter?" Atilio manages.

"I was," Kevin replies. "I still am. I just did a little work for my then-boss on the side."

"I… see," Atilio replies. "Work that included..?"

"…Occasionally killing people, yes," Kevin answers. He still does this far too calmly, which is in large part a result of the fact that he only _stopped_ killing people due to a fundamental disagreement with the man who used to send him to do it.

"…I see," Atilio manages again. He pauses a second, and then looks at Carlos, just as his son finally lifts his head from the tabletop again. "…So you left?"

With no option but to press on with the conversation, Carlos nods. "Yes. I lived in San Francisco for a few months, and then Toby came after me and recruited me to lead the team here. So… I moved to Night Vale."

"And that's when you met Cecil?" Atilio asks.

"Yes."

"Weren't you a little surprised that he looks just like Kevin?"

"Goodness, yes. At first I thought he _was_ Kevin, and then I realised he wasn't." A pause. "And then I ran away."

"You did that a lot," Cecil points out, albeit with a very warm smile.

"I was nervous!" Carlos insists, guiltily. "And you kept gushing about me on the radio!"

"You're a radio presenter too?" Atilio asks Cecil.

Cecil nods. "That's right."

"And… did you also..?" Atilio trails off, looking a little nervously from Cecil to Kevin.

"…Kill people for a corporate superpower?" Kevin discerns, with a wry little smile. "Nope, that was just me. Cecil's the good one."

" _Definitely_ the good one," Cecil agrees, albeit whilst giving Kevin a worryingly flirtatious look. "It was still a whole year before Carlos and I got together, though."

"A whole year?" Atilio repeats. "Why so long?"

"I was nervous!" Carlos insists again. "And trying to concentrate on science! And… and concerned I had something that made radio hosts want to stalk me!"

"I never stalked you!" Cecil says, looking more than a little guilty.

"You kept telling everyone on the radio that I was perfect!" Carlos exclaims, perhaps more high-pitched than is wise. "And you incited a small mob to run my barber out of town!"

"That was _entirely_ reasonable under the circumstances," Cecil replies, defensively.

"…So naturally it took me a while to open up," Carlos settles on, deciding it's best to just leave it at that. "But… but then I did."

"What changed your mind?" his father asks.

"I… had a near-death experience."

"What?"

"…A near-death experience," Carlos repeats, and Cecil reaches over to grip his hand at that. The hostile takeover may be the most _painful_ part of the story, but the miniature city is still the most _alarming_.

His father leans in. "What happened?"

"I went to investigate the hidden city underneath the bowling alley," Carlos tells him. "And, although it turned out to be a _miniature_ city, populated by tiny people, it didn't stop them trying to kill me."

Atilio looks horrified. "You almost died?" he asks, softly.

"Yeah," Carlos answers, suddenly not able to make eye-contact. "Yeah. I guess I did."

He knows he did. His memories of being carried out of that pit by the Apache Tracker are hazy at best, and he's confident he was delirious for most of it. Odd, really, that it was the moment he finally saw things clearly.

Near-death experiences seem to have a habit of doing that. Especially round here.

"But I was rescued," Carlos goes on, not wanting to dwell on it any more. "I was rescued and I realised I'd been denying how I felt. So I called Cecil and… and told him."

Atilio nods. "And that's when you got together?"

"Yes. And, for several months, things were good. And then…"

"…Then Strex came to Night Vale," Cecil completes, when Carlos can't quite.

"Strex?" Atilio repeats.

"Strexcorp," Kevin answers. "The corporate superpower from Desert Bluffs that I worked for."

"They sound like bad news," Atilio says.

"Oh, you have no idea," Kevin tells him. "And you want to continue having no idea. They had most of Desert Bluffs permanently enthralled and they were run by a quintet of demons. And I could tell you stories – stories I haven't even told these two – but, trust me, you don't want me to."

"…I see," Atilio manages, with more than a little nervousness in his tone. "And this group came to Night Vale?"

"Yes," Carlos replies. "They moved in and started buying out businesses all across the city, and then they gradually brought more of their people over to help maintain order. And eventually…"

"…They sent Kevin here," Atilio reasons.

"Exactly."

His father looks slowly between the three of them. "…It didn't go well, did it?"

"You could say that," Carlos answers, very wryly. "And, to be honest, I'd rather not talk about it. At all. Ever."

"But we don't need to," Cecil points out, rescuing him. "The important part came a little later, when for… for complicated technical reasons, I decided to call for a public uprising live on air."

Atilio raises his eyebrows. "That sounds daring. And dangerous."

"Oh, it was both," Carlos agrees. "We had to go on the run."

"'On the run'?" Kevin repeats. " _On the run_?! You went straight back home!"

Both Cecil and Carlos look a little sheepish at this. "…We weren't exactly _practiced_ at revolutions back then!" Cecil insists, defensively. "And _besides_ , you were right there waiting for us."

"Because I figured it was where you'd go," Kevin replies, very calmly. "And I was right."

"Yes," Cecil says. "You were right. And then you got hit."

"He got hit?" Atilio asks, now looking between the three of them in growing confusion.

"Yeah," Kevin goes on, seeming neither perturbed nor embarrassed by the fact. "Just once, but I did. Cecil was cross with me."

"Why?"

"Because earlier in the day I had grabbed Carlos and pinned him to a wall so we could talk."

" _Kevin!_ " Carlos exclaims, head in his hands (to reduce the urge to full-on hide under the table). "That is not a part of the story my _dad_ needs to hear!"

"…Oh. Sorry…" Kevin concedes, though there's an argument for saying he doesn't exactly look it.

" _So_ ," Carlos goes on, lifting his head and trying desperately to move the conversation into safer territory, "it turned out that Kevin had actually come to help us, although we weren't convinced at the time. But then two Strexcorp enforcers turned up to kill us – OK, no, to kill me and arrest Cecil – and Kevin decided to prove he _had_ come to help us by killing them."

Atilio stares at Kevin for a while. He's clearly having difficulty with the fact that his son is involved with a man who freely admits to having killed a number of people, but Carlos knows it's more than this, because now they're getting to the part where the things Kevin did were to protect _them_.

And that changes a lot. Carlos himself can attest to this.

"…It was nothing, really," Kevin says. "Managed to get myself a nasty cut to the arm, though. It shouldn't have happened, but I was distracted by these two and… well. By how much I wanted them."

At the time, Carlos hadn't realised that Kevin was carrying as much of a torch for Cecil as he was for Carlos himself. It's only later, when they've talked about it, that he's started to see all the signs he missed. Or didn't let himself see. Or strenuously denied.

He's good at that.

"Carlos patched me up," Kevin goes on, as calm and unflappable as ever. "He says medicine is not a science, but he did pretty good. And then we went on the run, but properly this time. Well. Properly for a little while, and then they decided to go stay with Cecil's sister because… you know, not so good at revolutions."

Unexpectedly – and perhaps somewhat worryingly – Atilio smiles at this. "I'm not exactly surprised by that," he says. "Certainly not in Carlos' case. When my son was little, we used to play hide and seek, but he was always very easy to find. I think it's because, even though he liked hiding, he liked being found even more."

" _Dad_ ," Carlos murmurs, head in his hands again so the other two can't see him blushing. It does, if nothing else, save him from the matching and rather wicked grins that this revelation provokes in his boyfriends.

"Well," Cecil goes on, eventually deigning to save him from an extended trip down memory lane, "we hid out for a few weeks, and I ran a pirate radio station, and Kevin was off somewhere else doing things that involved hiding bodies in the house that doesn't exist, and then there was the whole incident with the arrest and the physics-defying prison facility… oh, and the youth militia and the sentient computer and… and my brother-in-law, and… you know, the _important_ part is that eventually we rallied the whole town into a massive battle against Strexcorp."

Atilio is back to staring at him, clearly trying to process all of this and not having a clue which of the ten thousand questions to ask first. "…You were in a _battle_?" he manages, finally, looking at his son.

"…Sort of," Carlos says. "I didn't exactly do any fighting. Mostly Cecil and I were just trying to stay alive. Kevin did plenty of fighting, though, and…"

Carlos trails off, looking down. No. _This_ is the most alarming part. The miniature city was pretty bad, but this… The scariest thing was how close it had all come to making sense, and then… then it had been like the moment when you're working through an equation and you get to equals and you realise something is wrong.

Both his boyfriends take one of his hands each and hold on tight, and it's that – more than anything else – that seems to make the understanding dawn in Atilio's eyes.

"…And?" he prompts, softly.

"And then my former boss tried to stab me to death," Kevin replies. There's a tremor in his voice as he speaks, which betrays a whole world of untold stories, of memories that Kevin is still slowly recovering now that the influence of the Bloodstone is long gone. "I'd betrayed him very publicly just moments earlier, which was a bit of a shock after twenty years of… 'loyalty' is the wrong word, given what it later transpired he'd been doing to my head, but… it's how it felt at the time."

"But you survived," Atilio says.

"I survived," Kevin answers. "I survived because Carlos helped staunch the bleeding, Cecil picked up my knife and scared off anyone who got close, and Azzie – the big, tall guy you accidentally met earlier – helpfully eviscerated my former boss before he could finish the job. And _then_ we opened a mysterious door to another plane of existence and let in a massive army, along with Cecil's former intern – Dana – who had at that point absorbed a power we still can't explain. A power she used to heal me. So I survived, and Strexcorp was defeated, and Cecil and Carlos took me home and… and then some stuff I probably shouldn't tell you because you're Carlos' dad…"

"Stuff you definitely shouldn't tell my dad!" Carlos concurs, quickly. "But… you know… good stuff. And the three of us have been together ever since."

An odd silence descends. Carlos is quietly worried about how his father is going to react, so it's a whole world of relief when Atilio smiles. "Well. Much as it does seem to be an unusual arrangement, you do all seem well-suited to each other. Although… there's less killing now, right?"

"Oh, totally," Kevin answers. "I'm mostly retired in that respect. Well. Sort of. I haven't had cause to do it for several weeks now, at least."

He shrugs, with that adorably unfazed look that Carlos simply cannot resist, no matter how hard he tries.

"So… that's how it happened," he finishes. "I… realise it's a bit weird, but…"

"It's a lot weird," his father replies. "But that doesn't matter. I'm just glad you're happy."

And those words are such a weight off Carlos' mind. Maybe this is all going to work out fine.

Maybe this is not something you should think in Night Vale.


	2. Approach

**Approach**

_The steps a bowler takes before making a throw; the lead-in._

***

The rest of the day goes surprisingly well. Far better than Carlos had dared hope, in fact, and by the time they all turn in for the night he's starting to think that everything might really work out fine after all.

He's _also_ glad that the guest room in their house is on the opposite side from the main bedroom, and thereby well out of earshot of anything that might be going on in there. This is especially helpful because all this talk about events past has apparently wound up both Kevin and Cecil somewhat significantly.

The risk of being overheard is reduced still further by the fact that Kevin spends most of what transpires with one hand over Carlos' mouth and the other holding his wrists, whilst Cecil does some extraordinarily wonderful things to the two of them. And, by the end of it, Carlos isn't exactly coherent enough to make much noise anyway.

When he wakes in the morning, held between his chiral lovers, he lies in comfortable silence for what feels like a long time, listening to them breathe. What they went through to get here… it was pretty intense, and reliving it isn't easy.

But he has them. He has them both. And he wouldn't change that for anything.

***

After breakfast – during which Cecil explains to Atilio at length why wheat and wheat by-products are illegal in Night Vale – Cecil and Kevin head off to the radio station, and Carlos invites his father to come meet the other scientists. And, OK, yes, he's a little worried about how this might go, given who some of the other scientists _are_ , but if he can explain Cecil and Kevin to his father, he can explain _anything_.

When they make it to the Night Vale Scientific Centre, Carlos hesitates at the doorway. "So, Dad… if they're weird, just go with it. They're a really great team. They're just a little unusual."

Atilio puts a hand on his arm. "I'm sure it will be fine," he says.

Carlos is less sure. He hasn't been in to work in a few days and that generally leads to things getting out of hand.

They head in through the main entrance and along the corridor leading into the central lab. This is one of Carlos' favourite places in all the world, perhaps even more so than his lab at home, simply because of the sheer variety of equipment available here. It's a huge space, filled with workbenches and humming electrical devices and _possibility_.

The second they step in, there's a shriek, a whoop of triumph, and then something goes whirring rapidly over their heads and impacts with the far wall, leaving dark char-marks in the plasterwork.

" _Frederick!_ " someone howls, from the opposite side of the room.

"Not my fault!" comes the reply, followed by a thoroughly non-guilty. "…Oh, hey, Carlos."

The room goes silent; several people looking over at them. "What was that?" Carlos asks, looking from the charred section of wall to the person apparently (unsurprisingly) responsible for it.

"Just something I've been working on," says Frederick, easily. It's hard _not_ to like Frederick, given the significant role he played in saving Desert Bluffs from Strexcorp, but he is still something of a maniac all the same, and he _was_ the man who felt that the death ray _mark two_ was worth inventing. "I promise it's entirely non-toxic, so long as you don't go over and breathe in the fumes up close. So… Carlos, who's your guest?"

Carlos gives Frederick a we-will-discuss-this-later look and then gestures everyone in. "Everyone, this is my dad, Atilio. Dad, this is… well, this is everyone."

"It's good to meet you all," his dad says, looking around at them.

More introductions are in order. "So," Carlos goes on, "uhm… you remember Toby, and Arlene, of course, and then this is Frederick, and that's Hayley and Donna and… OK, where is Vincent?"

"…We don't know," Toby admits, after an awkward pause. "We've been looking for him for a while now. He was here first thing this morning, and then…"

Most people look at Frederick, who holds up his hands defensively. "Wherever he is, it's nothing to do with me! I was here the whole time, working on my concussion ray."

"Your _what?!_ " Carlos exclaims.

"My concussion ray," Frederick repeats. "It's going well so far, except I think I need to tone the pulses down a little because… well. That." And he gestures, wholly non-guiltily, at the wall. "Of course, I could make that work to my advantage…"

" _No_ , Frederick," says Carlos, firmly.

At this point, his father laughs a little. "Oh, this reminds me of when you were in college," he says.

"Are there stories?" asks Hayley, with an unusually wicked grin. "Please let there be stories. Carlos doesn't often talk about his past and Toby is too good to tell us things when Carlos isn't listening…"

"Oh, there are stories," Atilio replies. "Though I imagine you all have a few of your own, too."

"Lots of them!" Frederick enthuses. "There was the day when we broke physics and… OK, no, I'm not allowed to tell that one, it makes the Secret Police cross. Also, are you a scientist too?"

Keeping up with the man's line of logic – or lack thereof – can be a little dizzying sometimes, but Atilio seems unfazed. "No," he replies. "I'm a clockmaker. Retired, now, but I still dabble."

"A clockmaker!" Arlene exclaims in delight. "Oh, you must let us show you what's in the clocks!"

"Definitely," Donna concurs. "Maybe you can work out what they're up to!"

"Carlos said there was something strange about the clocks here," Atilio replies. "I'd be interested to see."

"…All right," Carlos concedes, when it becomes clear from all the hopeful faces that the team would never let him pass up the chance to bring an actual clockmaker in on _that_ whole mystery. "All right. But just promise me you won't touch it, OK? I'm concerned some of them might bite."

This gets him a very odd look from his father.

"…Just wait and see," Carlos says. Sometimes it's better to show than tell. Sometimes it's better not to show _or_ tell, but that's a different issue.

At this point, and without warning, Vincent materialises in mid-air a short way along from where they're all standing. He drops to the floor with a thud, then picks himself up and brushes himself down.

Atilio looks surprised, but no one else even blinks.

"…Does that happen a lot?" Atilio asks.

"More than you would think," Toby tells him.

"…What day is it?" Vincent murmurs, dazedly.

Sometimes it's best not to question these things.

***

Despite this admittedly par-for-the-course introduction, things – much like yesterday – go surprisingly well. And though Atilio does tell rather more stories about Carlos' childhood than Carlos himself would prefer, he doesn't tell _that_ story, so it's OK. More or less.

For their part, the scientists are mostly well-behaved. Frederick is still Frederick, but Carlos manages to get the man to put his concussion ray on hold for the afternoon so they can all spend some time looking at the clocks.

This, too, could have gone a lot worse. Atilio is understandably alarmed when he first encounters one of the _things_ that live in the clocks, and matters get a little problematic when the specimen in question decides to go for a walk, which is something Carlos hasn't observed any of them doing before. The _thing_ undulates along the workbench for a while, circles a jar of potassium permanganate several times, and then pauses in front of where Vincent is sitting. There's a long pause whilst scientist and unknown grey blob seem to observe each other, and then the unknown thing gives what Carlos is sure is a bow and calmly retreats to its clock again.

"You're a freak of nature," Frederick tells Vincent, patting his colleague on the shoulder.

Vincent seems not to notice, and wanders over to the clock, softly cooing at the whatever-it-is that has retreated back inside.

"…This is normal for you, isn't it?" Atilio says to his son.

Carlos has to concede that it is. In fact, this is borderline mundane… but still scientifically-fascinating, of course.

When he and his father get home that evening, they find Cecil and Kevin in the middle of making dinner. This in itself is not unusual, but it soon becomes clear that Cecil is very, very excited about something, and is trying hard to contain himself. It's completely adorable, although Carlos can't help wondering precisely what's going on, and sort of wishing they would tell him because the not-knowing does have a tendency to leave him with a slight sense of unease.

It isn't until they've finished dinner and settled with a cup of coffee each that Cecil finally says, "…So, I sort of have a surprise."

From his tone, you'd think he'd given nothing away all evening, and Carlos has a hard time keeping his expression level as he replies, "Oh?" as if he _hasn't_ been getting more and more desperate to find out.

Whatever it is, Kevin clearly knows. "I made him wait," he explains. "He wanted to call you before we even went on-air, but I said the surprise would be better in person."

"I _have_ to tell you now," Cecil enthuses. "OK, OK, so… since Atilio is a retired clockmaker, and since we all know that Carlos is _very_ interested in how time doesn't exist… I sort of arranged a trip for the four of us. A special trip. A very unusual and hard-to-get-approved trip."

"…It isn't through time, is it?" Carlos asks, nervously.

Cecil stares at him. "I thought you said that was impossible?"

"It is impossible! But, this being Night Vale…"

This gets him a look that makes Carlos more than a little worried that Cecil will try to find out how to make time travel work for his next surprise. It is legal here, after all. And it isn't as though Carlos hasn't done it once himself.

Just because it's _impossible_ doesn't mean it can't happen.

"…OK, so, tomorrow…" Cecil starts out, "…the four of us are going to visit Night Vale's invisible clocktower."

Kevin claps his hands together in delight. Carlos and Atilio, meanwhile, look surprised.

"…Night Vale's what?" Atilio asks.

"Night Vale's invisible clocktower!" Cecil repeats, having lost none of his excitement. "It's a major fixture of the town, only you won't have seen it because it's invisible. And always teleporting. But if you happen to have a friend at City Hall… say, a former intern who saved the town and then became mayor… you can find out the clocktower's teleportation schedule and arrange a trip. If we're in the right place at the right time, we'll be able to get in."

Believing in the invisible clocktower never used to be easy for Carlos, but given everything that's happened to him in the last couple of years, it's gotten significantly easier. And if Cecil says they can get into it, well… OK, that _would_ be rather cool. Scientifically-speaking, of course.

"That sounds fascinating," Atilio says, with a smile. It's clear he's not at all sure how an invisible clocktower is supposed to work, but he does at least seem content with the fact that his son and his son's bizarre matching boyfriends all believe in it.

"Oh, I'm _sure_ it will be," Cecil gushes, now beaming in a way that makes him look extraordinarily like Kevin. "Are you pleased?"

Carlos smiles. Weirdly reality-defying or not, it's a lovely gesture nonetheless. "Of course," he says, reaching over to grip Cecil's hand. "I'm surprised you were allowed, though. Even for Dana, it can't be something the City Council would just approve."

"She said she owed me a favour for helping her find her confidence after Hidden Gorge named her mayor," Cecil replies. "And I told her she already had all the confidence she needed and that she's a great mayor, but that I'd take the favour because it was a surprise for the two of you. And _then_ Kevin asked if we could maybe go into the Dog Park."

"What?!" Carlos exclaims. "Why?!"

Kevin shrugs. "Mostly to see what reaction I'd get."

"And what reaction did you get?"

Kevin shrugs again. "The whole room filled up with dark red smoke and started humming. When it dissipated, we agreed that maybe I wouldn't mention the Dog Park again for a while. You know, just to be safe."

"…The Dog Park?" Atilio repeats, back to looking confused again.

"…Don't ask," Cecil says, with a little shudder. "Some things are best left unknown. Sometimes for reasons of personal sanity and sometimes because otherwise they arrest you."

"Strange town, this," Atilio remarks.

"You have no idea," Carlos mutters. "So… how does the whole invisible clocktower trip thing work, then?"

"Well, it teleports every few minutes," Cecil explains. "The teleportation seems random, but there is actually a schedule that repeats once every fifteen days. And I know that tomorrow afternoon, at precisely 3:17pm, the clocktower will be at the vacant lot out back of the Ralph's for exactly four minutes and forty-seven seconds."

"But… still invisible?" Atilio says.

"Oh yes. We'll be able to get inside, though. It'll still _be_ there, after all."

"I… see," Atilio manages.

"It will all be fine," Cecil goes on. "The watchman is expecting us, and we can just leave the tower when we're done. Of course, it will be somewhere completely different by that point, but we can always take a cab home if we're too far out."

All in all, it sounds like a lovely idea. It's going to defy physics in ways that Carlos knows he's not fully prepared for, but nonetheless… he knows he'll enjoy it really. And he's confident his dad will too.

"Are you pleased?" Cecil asks, hopeful eyes now fixed on Carlos.

Carlos smiles. "Of course. You're so thoughtful."

Cecil beams some more. He still looks alarmingly like Kevin when he does that.

It's _very_ distracting.

***

The following day – a Saturday – they all head into town together in the afternoon. Cecil is practically vibrating with excitement and it really is adorable to watch. It's so adorable, in fact, that Carlos hardly thinks about how invisible clocktowers defy multiple laws of physics and just concentrates on enjoying himself.

His father still seems a little bewildered by everything, but that's a feeling Carlos remembers all too well and can very much identify with. Night Vale is _unshakeably_ weird if you're not used to it.

Or if you are.

The vacant lot out back of the Ralph's is quiet and empty when they arrive. The Ralph's itself has only been re-opened for a few months, having been burnt pretty much to the ground by Tamika Flynn and the Youth Militia during the resistance against Strexcorp.

It's an odd place. Weird things have a tendency to happen here and Carlos doesn't know why, and on some level he does wish that they were getting into the clocktower from some other point.

But. No. It will be fine. _He_ will be fine. It's the first thing a scientist is, after all.

Cecil looks at his wristwatch: the one that Carlos gave him as a one-month anniversary present back when they first started dating. It has an unerring ability to tell the not-time more accurately than any other clock in Night Vale, and Carlos is confident that it's the only timepiece in the city that doesn't contain one of those… whatever-they-ares.

Although… OK, if that's the case, is there one in the invisible clocktower?

Maybe don't think that right now.

"Almost time…" Cecil murmurs, staring at his wristwatch with careful intent. "Almost…"

And then… the air ripples. It's subtle, such that you probably wouldn't even notice it if you weren't paying attention, but given that he _is_ paying attention, Carlos feels very aware of it. Cecil looks up and grins as the sensation passes over them, and then starts to walk slowly forwards with one hand held out in front of him, and…

…All of a sudden, he's clearly touching something flat, even though there's nothing visible. He grins even more, sliding his palm down over the unseen surface until he finds what Carlos guesses must be a door handle… because there's a click, and that unseen surface seems to push forward, revealing something beyond:

A space that isn't there, with the edges of a staircase leading up.

" _Oh_ ," Cecil breathes. "That worked better than I expected!"

"Should we go in?" Kevin asks, looking as excited as his double.

"Absolutely," Carlos finds himself answering, without even thinking about it. Because… because.

He looks over at his dad. "…This is most unusual," Atilio remarks.

"That's pretty much Night Vale in a nutshell," Carlos says. "Shall we?"

They do. Staying close together, the four of them walk through the unseen door, and immediately they're in a narrow, stone-walled entrance room, with a spiral staircase leading upwards.

"Come on," Cecil urges them, excitedly. "Let's go!"

So they shut the door behind them and begin to climb the staircase, up and up, past smooth stone walls. On the way they pass a heavy wooden door but keep going, higher and higher until they emerge at the very top.

The upper level of the clocktower is round – given that the tower itself is round – with a roof supported by four narrow stone columns. A balcony wall rising to just below chest-height runs all the way around, leaving the area open to the air, and the view beyond visible.

It's quite a view. The tower rises higher than Carlos expected – and higher than the staircase implied – meaning that they can see a long way from where they now stand. Though they are all somewhat distracted by the large clock mechanism in the centre of the tower: a complex set of cogs and levers which runs down into the body of the tower and controls the clock that Carlos guesses must lie unseen on the outside of the building.

And… OK, wait, that's weird. None of the clocks in Night Vale _have_ a mechanism in them. Just a space where one of those weird grey things will inevitably be found lurking. No matter the size of the clock, it's always the same.

Except here.

Carlos is distracted from his thoughts by the realisation that they're not alone. Standing off to the side is a tall hooded figure, robed in dark indigo, and seemingly staring over at them. Its face is hidden in darkness, hands concealed in voluminous sleeves.

"…Watchman?" Cecil asks, carefully.

The hooded figure nods. " _Yes_ ," it – he – says in a deep baritone. " _Welcome to the Night Vale Clocktower_."

"Uh… thank you," Cecil replies. He watches the watchman carefully – a mental sentence that makes Carlos smile to himself – and then gestures to the balcony around them. "May we?"

The watchman nods again. " _Of course_ ," he replies. " _Take all the time you need_."

Something about this is oddly unsettling, though Carlos opts not to think about it and instead moves closer to the balcony edge, finding himself as caught by the view as he is by the slowly clunking mechanism in the centre of the tower.

It really is quite a view. From here they can see over the Ralph's and across the city centre: a swathe of buildings and criss-crossing roads stretching out ahead of them. You can't see Desert Bluffs from here – the foothills beyond the scrublands are in the way – but Kevin still stands staring in the right direction, wistful eyes fixed on the horizon.

He misses it. He goes back regularly, now he can, but Carlos knows he still misses it.

Atilio, meanwhile, is examining the clock mechanism with obvious interest. "This is fascinating," he says, pacing slowly around so he can look from different angles. "I've been in a couple of clocktowers but never one as large as this. It must have been quite an undertaking."

The watchman nods again. " _Eight years and twenty-three million dollars_ ," he states – figures that Carlos vaguely remembers Cecil quoting to him one time. " _Some citizens were not impressed_."

"That sounds… harsh," Atilio manages.

"It was harsh!" Cecil agrees. "It's a lovely municipal building. Way better than that ridiculous drawbridge that they _still_ haven't finished."

"Drawbridge?" Atilio repeats, blinking at him. "Night Vale needs a drawbridge? I didn't think you had a river."

"We don't," Cecil replies, though he doesn't quite connect this fact to the lack of need for a drawbridge and – not for the first time – Carlos opts not to mention it.

Atilio seems to do the same, most likely out of bewilderment, and instead says, "…Well, this is certainly fascinating. Is there more of the mechanism lower down?"

" _Yes_ ," says the watchman.

"…Can we see it?"

" _Yes_ ," the watchman repeats. " _After the next jump_."

Ah yes, the teleportations. Carlos is not at all sure what this is going to be like, but he can't deny wanting to find out. Instantaneous teleportation… well, it doesn't quite defy thermodynamics, but there ought to be _some_ kind of explanation for how it works, though he can't fathom what it could be.

The four of them stand at the balcony edge, staring out at the view. Carlos feels an arm slip around his waist, and he leans in against Cecil, who already has Kevin pressed into his other side.

Atilio glances over at them and smiles, but doesn't say anything. But there's growing comprehension in his eyes, and Carlos can't help feeling that his father is starting to understand their relationship, as opposed to just accepting it.

And then that strange sensation passes through the air again, albeit rather stronger and more electric. The tower where they're standing seems unchanged, but the view beyond flickers and shifts in the blink of an eye, and suddenly it's completely different.

"Oh!" Cecil exclaims. "Speaking of the drawbridge, there it is!"

They're now looking from the city outskirts and into the desert beyond. And there, up ahead, stands the Old Town Drawbridge, supported on all sides by rather rickety-looking metal struts.

"Merciful Huygens, how is that thing even still standing?" Atilio exclaims.

"Good question," Kevin replies. "I've long suspected some kind of dark magic, but Cecil says I can't ask the City Council for confirmation in case they overreact."

"…Dark magic..?" Atilio repeats, staring more than a little.

Kevin shrugs, clearly not realising why Atilio is so alarmed by this statement. "Yeah, I mean, it would work, but for a structure that size I think you'd have to have someone on site more or less all the time. And the Night Vale City Council frowns on deals with demons so you couldn't do it that way."

Atilio stares some more, evidently now lost for words.

"Shall we go see the rest of the clock mechanism?" Carlos asks quickly, and tellingly high-pitched.

"…That would be good," his father manages, still not quite able to stop staring at Kevin.

"You go on," Cecil says. "I'm going to stay and admire the view."

"Me too," Kevin adds. "Depending on how far out this tower jumps, we might catch sight of Desert Bluffs if we're lucky."

Carlos smiles. Unnerving remarks about dark magic aside, the man really is adorable when he gets all wistful about his hometown.

Leaving the two doubles to keep admiring the view, Carlos and Atilio follow the hooded watchman back down the staircase until they reach that door partway up. The watchman opens it and leads them past a second door beyond and over to where the huge mechanism descends from above and reaches to the tower wall, and to the clock that must be on the outside of it.

This isn't all. Deep inside the slowly-moving system of cogs and gears, Carlos can just make out a different kind of movement in the low lighting: the soft, undulating ripple of one of the whatever-they-ares that live inside all the clocks. Only… bigger.

"…Don't go too close to it," he says, putting a careful hand on his father's arm. "I still don't know what those things are."

" _It will not hurt you_ ," the watchman remarks. " _But your caution is wise_."

They approach the mechanism carefully, and Carlos knows how much his dad will be enjoying this, even if it is also intensely weird. The workings of the clock are beautiful in their simplicity and rhythm, and both men pace slowly around them, watching the constant clunk and turn.

Carlos wants to question why it's here, though, given that all the other clocks in Night Vale don't have any actual workings inside them. But he doesn't give the thoughts voice because, if nothing else, what does it say that he's more alarmed to find something _normal_ as opposed to weird?

"How often does it lose time?" Atilio says to the watchman, the question pulling Carlos back to the here and now.

" _It does not_ ," comes the reply.

"…Never?"

" _Never_."

"That seems somehow impossible."

" _Not impossible. Merely improbable_."

It's an important distinction in Night Vale.

At this point, that weird ripple in the air passes through them again, as the tower teleports once more. Carlos thinks little of it, until he hears the shouts from above.

"…Hello? Uhm… is this normal?"

Carlos and his father exchange a look. "…If Cecil's asking if something is normal, it _must_ be weird," Atilio remarks.

He's not wrong. They head quickly upstairs, with the hooded watchman in tow, to find out what's happened… and are soon faced with a view that Carlos did not expect.

He knows, from what Cecil has told him, that the clocktower jumps all over Night Vale, never staying in the same place for more than a few minutes. But it doesn't jump in time, only space – because apparently that would defeat the purpose of a clocktower far more than it being _invisible_ – so whatever the view from the balcony is, it should still be light right now.

But it isn't. It's dark. And it takes Carlos a few seconds to realise that this is in fact because the tower is now standing right next to what looks like a sheer cliff face: a wall of rock, blocking any light, as well as the view.

"OK, that's… I didn't expect that," Carlos manages.

" _Nor I_ ," the watchman rumbles in agreement.

"…We have a much bigger problem," comes Cecil's voice from the far side of the balcony. His tone is suddenly hollow, and alarmed, and reticent, as if he doesn't quite want them to know what's wrong.

"This isn't supposed to happen, is it?" Kevin chips in, and he, too, sounds unusually alarmed. "But… that's what I think it is, right?"

Carlos hurries over to where the two men are standing. Round at this side of the balcony, the view is not blocked by solid rock, though it is still dark, and it rapidly becomes clear as to why.

They're underground. High up above, where Carlos would have expected to see the clear sky of day or the glittering void of night, there is instead solid rock, forming the roof of a vast, subterranean cavern. And stretching out ahead of them, glittering in the perpetual night of the underground, is a great swathe of buildings: some low and blocky and others great angular spires that stretch high above the cavern floor.

Carlos feels his blood go cold. Cecil puts an arm around him and holds on tight, and Kevin moves closer to his other side, gripping his hand.

"That's…" Carlos starts out, but he can't quite give voice to the rest.

"How..?" Kevin manages.

"…Something's wrong…" Cecil says.

"…Is that a _city_?" Atilio asks, obviously unaware of the full ramifications of what they're looking at.

"…We shouldn't be here," Cecil murmurs. "It shouldn't… we shouldn't…"

But they are.

It's the miniature city. The miniature city underneath Lane Five of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex.

"…If that's the city… surely we should be enormous by comparison?" Kevin tries. "I mean… this tower shouldn't even fit in the cavern, given what you've told me about it."

He's quite right. The cavern is only ten feet down.

Which leaves only one explanation.

"…I think we're miniature too," Carlos manages. "Given… given the apparent size of that city, it… we… I think, when we teleported down here… we shrank."

It's so completely insane, he can hardly believe he's saying the words. But he's also staring at what pretty much constitutes visual proof, or at least visual support for the hypothesis, and…

 _They're in the miniature city. They're in the miniature city where he almost died_.

"But… we'll teleport again, won't we?" Cecil says, turning to the watchman with a look of renewed urgency on his face.

The watchman shakes his head. " _Something is wrong. We should not be here. The tower does not leave Night Vale. Nor does it change size_."

"So… how did we get here?" Cecil pushes.

" _I do not know_ ," the watchman answers. " _It may be connected to the second problem, however_."

"The second problem?" Cecil repeats.

Carlos realises it now. He didn't notice it before, but now that he has, it's impossible to ignore.

"…The clock," he whispers. "It's stopped."

And it has. The silence is strangely deafening, even though – by comparison – it isn't even close to being the most alarming part of all this.

"Has that ever happened before?" Atilio asks.

The watchman shakes his heavily-hooded head. " _No_ ," he answers. " _The clock has run perfectly since the day it was created. It does not lose time. It does not gain time. It does not stop_."

"But… it has," Kevin points out. "Could it be the result of the tower teleporting down here?"

" _…Perhaps_ ," the watchman replies, though Carlos can't help feeling there's something more to it than this.

"Are you _sure_ we won't teleport again?" Cecil asks, unable to keep the hopeful edge out of his voice.

" _I claim surety of nothing_ ," the watchman says, " _but nevertheless… I am attuned to this tower, and I am confident it is going nowhere. Not until whatever caused it to come here is dealt with_."

"'Caused it to come here'?" Carlos repeats. "You think something else did this?"

" _I believe so, yes_ ," the watchman tells him.

Carlos headtilts. "What could cause an entire building to shrink and appear underground?"

" _An excellent question_ ," the watchman agrees, although he doesn't have an answer.

Silence descends again, heavy and overpowering.

"…What do we do now?" Cecil wonders out loud, and there's genuine concern in his tone as he speaks.

"We need to find out who did this," Kevin replies, voice taking on that focused, determined edge that tends to lead to physical violence under the wrong circumstances.

Carlos can't help thinking that these might very well be the wrong circumstances. They're in the miniature city where he almost _died_ because all the miniature people tried to kill him. And that alone is likely to get both Kevin _and_ Cecil more than a little riled up.

"You're right," Carlos has to agree, taking a deep breath and trying to focus on the problem in hand. "We're going to have to go out there, into the city and… and find out if they did this. Or if they know who _did_ do this. And – crucially – if they know how to reverse it."

" _Go_ ," the watchman says. " _Find out what brought us here and what is keeping us here and undo it_."

"Won't that risk leaving us _trapped_ in this place?" Cecil asks at once.

The watchman gives another shake of his head. " _No. I can delay the teleports if I need to_."

"But… you're not doing that right now to mess with us?" Kevin says, suspiciously.

There's a smile in the watchman's tone as he answers, even though his face remains utterly hidden. " _Of course not_."

"…This is all relatively normal to you, isn't it?" Atilio interjects, softly.

Carlos meets eyes with his father, rather wishing the man wasn't caught up in the middle of all this. "I wouldn't say _normal_ ," he answers. "But… it's less weird than it might once have been. And… Dad, we have to go out there, and I don't know what we're going to find, and…." He sighs, looking down. "If you want to stay here, where it's safer…"

"…Oh no, I'm coming with you," Atilio answers.

"But… Dad, it's probably _dangerous_ ," Carlos insists. "In fact… it _is_ dangerous, look," he adds, pulling out his danger meter and showing his father the screen, which is currently a deep shade of red.

The most dangerous colour.

Atilio stares. "You can _quantify_ danger?"

"Oh, sure," Carlos replies. "And right now there's a lot of it!"

"I realise that. But even so… I'd sooner stay with you."

Carlos sighs again. An unhealthy attraction to danger despite a clear aversion to it seems to be something of a family trait. "All right," he agrees, finally. "All right. Just… if it gets weird… don't hold it against me?"

His father gives him an odd look. "Carlos. You ran away to a town that is _very_ difficult to find, you have two identical but non-related boyfriends, and you co-led not one but _two_ separate full-city rebellions against a massive corporate superpower that was apparently founded by _demons_ … which, up until recently, I didn't even know existed. So what could we possibly find down here that would appear _weird_ in comparison to all of the above?"

Carlos stares out at the city. "That's what I'm afraid of," he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... cliffhanger. Already! I told you I was only putting up a couple of chapters... Hopefully I'll be back with more a little faster this time!
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: The miniature city is full of secrets. Full of surprises. And there's a big one heading Cecil's way...


	3. Sleeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for how slow this one is going. I've been a little distracted of late, both by the prequel ([A Song of Blood and Sunlight](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4055455/chapters/9125632), of which nine chapters are currently posted) and also by needing to stop and write a [mini-series](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4274892) in reaction to the emotional firecracker that was the three-year anniversary episode.
> 
> But I'm here now and, whilst I only have one new installment for today, it's something of a wham-chapter, featuring two huge reveals that I've been waiting _ages_ to get to!
> 
> In other news, I would like to dedicate this chapter to all of the amazing scientists involved in the New Horizons mission to Pluto. The pictures this week have been nothing short of spectacular, and a near-lifelong dream of mine - to see what that _planet_ really looks like - has been fulfilled. So this one's for you guys. Go science!  <3

**Sleeper**

_A pin left hidden behind another pin after the first shot is taken._

***

The odd part is that, despite all the strange things that have happened to him since he moved to Night Vale – and certainly despite all the strange things that have happened to him over the last year and a half – Carlos has never thought he'd ever see the miniature city like this.

In retrospect, it was probably inevitable.

So here he is, walking the quiet streets of the miniature city with his dad close by, Cecil at his side, and Kevin leading the way, doing his best to look like a man you shouldn't mess with.

Unless you're into that sort of thing.

The city itself looks _very_ different from this perspective. The roads are quiet – eerily empty – and paved with a dark stone that looks almost volcanic in nature. The buildings in this part of the city are arranged into blocks – much like the cities on the surface – and seem to glow from within. Some are a very normal shape, and others seem strange and angular, with great spires sweeping high into the air.

Those ones, Carlos remembers all too well. Trying not to fall on them had been something of a challenge.

"…OK, this is weird," Cecil says, softly, as if he's deliberately keeping his voice down.

"More weird than anything else we've done this year?" Carlos asks.

"On a par, at least," Cecil concedes. He smiles and grips Carlos' hand, and Carlos knows the other man is worried. It's hard not to be. Even leaving aside the part where the people of this city have known warlike and murderous tendencies, there's still the part where the four of them are now trapped down here, and have been shrunk to a suitably miniature size.

Cecil's quite right. It is weird.

"Where do you think everyone is?" he now says, still keeping his voice soft.

"I'm hoping it's just whatever passes for night-time for them," Carlos replies. "The alternatives are probably less fun, especially for us."

"…This is _fun_ for you?" his father asks, somewhat incredulously.

"Nope," Carlos insists. "Not even a little bit."

Though Atilio does not look as convinced by this claim as Carlos had hoped.

Up ahead, Kevin suddenly stops in mid-step, hand on the hilt of his knife, looking around even more carefully than he has been since the second they walked out of the clocktower.

"What is it?" Cecil asks, voice now barely a whisper.

"We're being followed," Kevin replies, drawing his knife very slowly. "I wasn't certain before but I am now. Several of them, left and right."

"How do you know?" Atilio murmurs.

Despite it all, Kevin smiles. "Because they're not as good at it as they think they are."

"What should we –?" Carlos starts out, but he doesn't get any further because at this point – presumably realising they've been noticed – the people following them opt to make their move.

Figures erupt from the shadows, though oddly most of them don't come too close and instead form a circle around their targets, and… OK, these attackers are shorter than Carlos expected. Before he can even get as far as processing that they're surrounded by _children_ , a rather taller figure springs from close by and barrels into the nearest of the four of them, who happens to be Cecil. Both people hit the ground and roll once, ending up with Cecil on his back and the attacking party on top of him.

And that's when the two of them freeze. It's probably the only thing that keeps Kevin from launching at them, because it's obvious – even if you don't know what's going on – that _something_ is going on.

And boy, is something ever going on.

" _Earl?!_ " Cecil exclaims, staring in open shock at the man currently pinning him to the floor.

Earl Harlan relaxes somewhat, the surprise just as evident in his own expression as he realises who it is he's just knocked to the floor. " _Cecil?_ "

"…You want me to do something about him?" Kevin asks, pointedly, gesturing at Earl with his knife.

"No," Cecil insists, hurriedly. "Wait, I…" He stares up at Earl. "What are you _doing_ here?"

Earl's expression remains guarded. "I could ask you the same."

"You could maybe ask without pinning me to the ground, though?" Cecil suggests.

It's a moment before Earl relents, though he does relent, relaxing his grip and climbing off Cecil before somewhat begrudgingly holding out a hand to help him up. Only now does Carlos really risk taking his eyes away from the pair of them and looking around at the rest of Earl Harlan's associates, finally realising what they all are.

The people surrounding them are indeed children – mostly pre-teens – in a mixture of girls and boys. They're all wearing similar khaki outfits, much like Earl's, with different badge-covered sashes across their chests.

Boy Scouts. And Girl Scouts. So… just scouts, then. They look human – no tentacles or third eyes or antennae – although Carlos knows they aren't, not quite. They're… miniature-city-ans.

OK, they're going to have to come up with a better name for that.

"You know this man?" Atilio says, quietly, to his son.

"Not well," Carlos replies. "He's an old friend of Cecil's, but he disappeared over a year and a half ago following…" – just accept it, just accept it, one of your boyfriends summons _demons_ , just accept it – "…an incident at the Night Vale Boy Scouts' first ever Eternal Scout ceremony. Apparently… apparently Earl and several others were carried off by mute, otherworldly children to an unknown plane of existence."

His father stares at him. "…Does that happen a lot?" he manages.

"The fact that it happened at all is alarming enough," Carlos replies.

"Good point."

"All right," Earl Harlan cuts across, in what Carlos has a sneaking suspicion is an adaptation of his Sensible Adult Voice. "Now. What exactly is going on here?"

"Maybe you can help us with that," Cecil replies, still watching his old friend with obvious caution. "We got brought down here by Night Vale's Invisible Clocktower. We were visiting it and then all of a sudden–"

Earl holds up a hand, eyes wide. "You were in a building? A Night Valean building that was suddenly down here?"

Cecil nods. "Yes."

Earl exchanges alarmed looks with several of his young associates. "It's started," one says.

"It's started," Earl agrees, and then turns his attention back to their unexpected guests. "The four of you need to come with us," he insists. "Right now. I'll explain when we get somewhere out of sight, but it is _not_ safe for us to just hang around here."

"I could _make_ it safe," Kevin cuts in, looking thoroughly unimpressed by being told what to do.

Earl stares at him. Then he stares at Cecil. "Cecil… why is your double here?"

"Long story," Cecil replies.

Earl still looks concerned. "Oh. Didn't you try to kill him during that whole thing with the sandstorm?"

"Yes. But… some stuff has happened since you disappeared, Earl. Quite a lot, and… masters of us all, what was that?"

In the distance, a steady drumbeat has struck up, growing gradually faster. And _closer_.

" _Followers_ ," Earl mutters, without explanation. "We need to _move_."

The urgency in his eyes is enough to convince everyone, at least for now, and Earl leads them off the main street and down an ominously dark alleyway, with his troupe of scouts trailing along behind. They take a route that Carlos is confident is designed to throw off anyone coming after them – and perhaps to confuse the four of them as well – turning down intersection after intersection until they finally reach a door.

Earl knocks three times on the surface, and a slat slides open, a pair of eyes looking out.

"Password?" says a voice that cannot be older than twelve.

" _Strike_ ," Earl answers.

The slat slides shut, there comes the sound of latches being unlocked, and then the door opens. Beyond it is indeed another of the scouts; a girl, who has the sort of expression that suggests she'd get on very well with Night Vale's own Tamika Flynn. It's obvious that she wants to ask a lot of questions, but she's smart enough to keep them to herself until everyone has hurried inside, and the door has been closed again.

When it has, however, the girl immediately speaks up. "What's going on, Mr Harlan? Who are these people?"

Earl looks conflicted. "They're Night Valeans. It's started, Irina. They were in a Night Valean building."

Irina's eyes go wide. "…I see," she says. "Do they know anything?"

"I haven't got that far yet. I need to talk to them first. Can you gather everyone together and make sure we're not missing anybody?"

"After I find out what's going on."

"Irina, please, do this for me. I need to talk to them alone before I do anything else."

The young woman looks conflicted, but she nods. "All right. I'll get everyone into the common room. We'll be waiting."

"Thank you. Thank you."

And Irina skips off, with the other children in tow. When they're gone, Earl looks at his four unexpected guests, a very complex expression in his eyes. "In here," he says, gesturing them into a side-room. The place in question turns out to be an office of some sort, and a very Spartan one at that; almost as if they've walked into a film noir version of the 1960s, but put together by someone who has never seen film noir _or_ the 1960s. There's no windows – though, given how dark it is outside, they're probably not necessary – and it's lit by rather dim electric-looking lights at the four corners.

"All right," Earl says, running a hand through his hair. "All right. This is not what I expected when I woke up this morning."

"Me neither!" Cecil replies, looking like he's barely holding back the ten thousand questions. "I… have so much I need to ask you."

"The feeling is mutual," Earl answers, carefully. "I think perhaps you should start by explaining _this_ ," he adds, gesturing to the four of them. There's an odd edge to his tone: not so much hostility as caution, though Carlos can hardly blame him for that.

"All right," Cecil says. "Well… you remember Carlos?"

"How could I forget?" Earl does not sound wholly thrilled, and Carlos remembers the one occasion he met the man, prior to Earl's abduction by the mute, otherworldly children. On that day – the day he ran into Cecil and his bowling group in the street – Carlos had been struck by the way Earl seemed around Cecil, to the extent that he would have thought them a couple had he not known Cecil was single at the time.

From the flicker in his eyes, Cecil picks up on the tone too, but doesn't comment. "So you already know Carlos, and then this is his father, Atilio."

"It's good to meet you," Atilio says, carefully, and clearly a little taken aback by everything that's going on.

"Indeed," Earl tells him, equally carefully, as the two men shake hands. "OK, then. So Carlos I understand, and Carlos' dad… I guess I shouldn't be surprised. But why in the name of the Nameless Ones is your _double_ here?"

Kevin, having been persuaded en route to put his knife away, looks very much like he'd prefer to draw it again. " _I_ have a name, you know. It's Kevin." He holds out a hand, which Earl consents to shake after a cautious pause. "It's _very_ interesting to meet you, Earl."

"Is it, now?" Earl replies, before turning his attention to Cecil. "Last time we spoke you still hadn't gotten over the sandstorm, during which – if I recall – you tried to kill this guy. And yet now you're happily wandering around with him?"

"Quite a lot has happened since you disappeared," Cecil says. "Like… _really_ quite a lot." And he steps up beside Kevin, taking his hand.

Earl's eyes go wide. "…Wait, what?!" he exclaims. "But… given that Carlos is here, I assumed you and he…"

At this point, Carlos steps up next to Cecil and takes _his_ hand, and Earl's eyes go wider still. "…All _three_ of you?!"

Cecil nods. "Yes. Carlos and I got together… not long after you disappeared, actually. And then… well, then a lot happened that we should probably explain later, but the crux of it is that Kevin came to Night Vale and it turned out that he and Carlos dated before _Carlos_ came to Night Vale, and then… then some other stuff happened and… look, the long and the short of it is that all three of us are together now and… and it's good. Really good."

"…I see," Earl says, but softer. Sadder. "And… what, this is a meet-the-parents week gone wrong?"

"Actually, yes," Carlos replies. "My dad came to stay, and Cecil arranged us a trip to the Invisible Clocktower, and midway through… it ended up down here."

"Earlier," Kevin chips in, "you reacted rather significantly to the news that a Night Valean building had appeared in this city. Has it happened before?"

"No," Earl answers. "But it will not be the last. I… I knew it was going to _start_ happening sooner or later."

"Why?" Kevin pushes.

Earl rubs a hand over his eyes. "To explain that… I will have to explain a lot."

"Like how you ended up down here in the first place?" Cecil asks.

"Yes. Starting with that, in fact. I… look." Earl paces up and down a couple of times, clearly thinking, before he stops and stares at the four of them. "OK. So. We were having the Eternal Scout ceremony for Frankie and Bartie. Those mute children from another world attacked midway through and… long story short, I ended up in the same otherworld they came from."

"Another plane of existence?" Kevin says, looking unsurprisingly interested. "What was it like?"

"…Horrifying," Earl answers, with a little shudder. "It took… I don't know how long it took for me to find a way out. But eventually, in between my constant struggles to hide from all those _un_ -children, I found something. A door. An old oak door."

Carlos, Cecil and Kevin exchange knowing glances.

"That means something to you?" Earl asks, having obviously picked up on it.

"Yes," Cecil replies. "Let's just say we've had some experience with them."

"I see," Earl answers. "Well. I went through… and I found myself here. It took a while to realise that I was in the miniature city – _the_ miniature city – and that I had obviously shrunk down to the correct size when I came through that door. But I had no idea how to make myself grow back to my _original_ size – or if it was even possible – and no idea how to get back to Night Vale. Eventually I discovered that only authorised groups are allowed to attempt the ascent, and there was no chance of me getting into one of those. My only option was to try to make a life for myself down here. So… I did." For the first time, he looks at least a little proud of himself, and Carlos certainly doesn't begrudge him that. The man has clearly had more than a few rough experiences, science-defying and extra-planar alike, which is something Carlos can sympathise with.

"So you're running a scout group down here?" Cecil asks.

Earl nods. "Yes. I always enjoyed it. I was good at it. So… I figured, why stop? I formed the very first Scout Troupe of Nebolgorod."

"…Wait, where?" Carlos interjects.

"Nebolgorod," Earl repeats. "It's the name of this place. They don't really call themselves 'the miniature city', you know."

"I suppose they wouldn't," Carlos concedes, realising that he's never actually thought about it before. Though that's mostly because thinking about _this_ place has never been easy. "So… Nebolgorod?"

Earl nods again. "Yes."

"Why is it in Russian?" Kevin asks.

This gets him an odd look from the scoutmaster. "You speak Russian?"

" _Eto verno_ ," Kevin replies, with the air of a man who knows he's showing off and doesn't care. "As well as Spanish, Unmodified Sumerian, Linear-B, a little Latin, English – obviously – and a certain amount of Dzy-an-thyl, which is a language spoken on the upper three infernal planes. Or, I speak it as well as is possible when you only have one tongue."

Earl stares. Atilio also stares. Cecil looks like he's repressing a grin and Carlos starts wondering quite what he did to deserve this. Though at least – for once – it's not him that other people are fighting over.

"Well… it isn't in Russian," Earl says, doing his best to recover. "It's in Old Nebolgorodian. It… just sounds a lot like Russian."

" _Ochen_ ," Kevin says, with a smirk. "At least whoever named it had a sense of humour."

Earl gives him a narrowed glance, though it hides that flicker of alarm – which Carlos has seen in people before – at realising that this person who looks so much like the man he knows really _isn't_.

" _So_ ," Earl continues, pointedly. "I've been living down here for… you know, it gets a little hard to track the time. What month is it, anyway?"

"October 2014," Cecil answers. "Allegedly, at least."

Earl raises his eyebrows. "Wow. Almost a year and a half. Funny how you lose track of it all…"

"Well, time doesn't exist," Carlos can't help saying, though this just gets him weird looks from Earl. And from his father.

" _So_ ," Kevin now starts off, in the same pointed tone Earl used only moments earlier. "You lived down here and you started a scout troupe and I really _do_ admire your efficiency. But what does all this have to do with buildings disappearing from Night Vale?"

It's a good question, and one that they all no doubt want an answer to. Earl sighs. "OK. This is where it gets a little tricky. You see, about two and a half years ago, Nebolgorodian society was split by a serious schism. A _religious_ schism. Before it happened, for as long as anyone can remember, everyone here had worshipped a god called Huntokar. He was revered as the mighty protector of the city and the guardian of all its people. But then, two and a half years ago, something happened that changed _everything_."

"It did?" Carlos says, getting the nagging feeling that he ought to know what it is.

"It did," Earl answers. "Maybe… I had better show you. Come up to the roof. You'll be able to see from there."

A little perplexed, they follow Earl out of the office and back into the hall, before going through another door into a dimly-lit stairwell. They go up two – no – three flights, and finally emerge onto a wide balcony. It's mostly concealed by the larger buildings all around, but the one open side is enough to let them look out over the rooftops up ahead, out towards…

… _Oh_.

About a block away, they can see a long, wide-open avenue. It was clearly caused by something huge crashing through the buildings that once filled the space, and though the area has been tidied and re-paved, it's an obvious scar across this part of the city. And the cause is impossible to miss: a massive spherical object, half-embedded in the ground, sitting forever at the end of its path of destruction. The object in question is huge – at least as big as one of the smaller buildings – with a smooth surface hued in mottled, slightly iridescent purple. For a moment, Carlos can't work out what it is; not until he spots the three large holes on one side, arranged into a triangle.

"…That's a _bowling ball_ ," Carlos murmurs.

"Yes," Earl says.

"That's _the_ bowling ball!" Cecil exclaims. "The one that rolled down here through the pin retrieval area of Lane Five at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex!"

"Yes," Earl says, again, with an odd flicker in his eyes. "According to those who saw it happen, that ball fell down from above, crashed through the city, and came to rest here. Seventeen people were killed, and dozens of buildings flattened. The Followers of Huntokar, realising that the once-fabled Upperworld actually existed, immediately began working on a way to get up there – up to Night Vale – to seek vengeance on those who, they believed, had declared war on them."

"But we hadn't!" Cecil points out. "The whole thing was an accident!"

"Indeed it was," Earl agrees. "You try telling them that, though. And then, exactly one year later, in the middle of the memorial events, the Demon of the Upperworld appeared from above and – so the stories say – tried to wreak havoc on the citizens of Nebolgorod once again."

 _The Demon of the Upperworld_. Carlos blushes fiercely and half-hides behind Cecil, resting his forehead on the back of his boyfriend's shoulder and wishing the world would give him a break.

"Oh my," Kevin breathes, having evidently made the – sadly unavoidable – connection.

"…Wait," Atilio says, and Carlos really, really wishes his father wasn't as astute as he's clearly about to demonstrate. "Someone came through from Night Vale? But… surely that must have been…"

"…Me," Carlos murmurs, still hiding behind Cecil. "That was me."

Earl gasps. "You?!" he exclaims. "You're the _Demon_ of the _Upperworld?!_ "

"No!" Carlos insists. "I'm a scientist! I'm not the demon of anything!"

Cecil turns, pulling him in and holding on rather tightly. "Carlos didn't come down here to hurt anyone," he points out, defensively. "He just wanted to find out if the miniature city was real or not."

"Maybe so," Earl replies. "But, to the people of Nebolgorod, all they had to go on was the fact that a white-robed giant from the Upperworld suddenly appeared, on the anniversary of the very day that they believed the Upperworlders had made their first attack. I'm not saying I agree with what they did – because I don't – but I can at least understand their reasoning. So… if you were the Demon of the Upperworld, who was the Many-Feathered One?"

"That would be the Apache Tracker," Cecil answers, with what can only be described as a _complicated_ look in his eyes. "For reasons we still don't understand, he came racing down here after Carlos and rescued him."

"And got himself _killed_ in the process," Carlos adds, softly. "To this day, I have no idea why he saved me. We'd never even spoken."

"And if you had, it wouldn't have lasted long," Cecil points out. "The Apache Tracker only spoke Russian. Because of an incident."

"…You people really do live in a very strange place," Atilio manages.

"Don't we just?" Kevin agrees.

"OK, so, back up a little," Cecil now says, keeping an arm around Carlos. "What does all this have to do with the religious schism?"

Earl sighs. "Not everyone believes that Night Vale was trying to attack Nebolgorod. It's the _majority_ opinion, and it's the official line taken by the Followers of Huntokar, but it isn't the _only_ opinion. There are some people who believe that what happened was not an attack but a wake-up call. A sign that Huntokar's power is not absolute. A reminder that the _Over_ world is something to be explored, not feared. And the symbol of the new minority is that," he adds, pointing over the rooftops to the bowling ball once again. "They call it the Overball, and they… _we_ … call ourselves the Acolytes of the Overball. And we believe that Nebolgorod needs to change."

"Merciless Azatothoth," Kevin breathes. "We just walked into the middle of another revolution, didn't we?"

"I wouldn't quite call this a revolution," Earl answers. "Not yet. Though I worry about your use of the word 'another'."

"We'll get to that," Carlos says, a little wearily. "So… if I'm a _demon_ to the Followers of Huntokar, what in the name of Einstein am I to these _Acolytes?_ "

Earl gives him an odd smile. "Still a demon. Some names just stick. Though we use _Over_ world rather than _Upper_ world, because it sounds better. And to the Acolytes, you're not a source of fear. Not all demons are bad, after all."

"…Oh good," Carlos manages, not sounding convinced in the slightest. Because he isn't.

"And all of this still doesn't explain why you knew something might start happening to Night Valean buildings," Kevin points out, ever the pragmatist.

"I'm getting to that," Earl replies, giving him something of a look. "So. Since the day the Overball first fell down here, there have been isolated – but regular – incidents of entire Nebolgorodian buildings just disappearing."

"How?" Cecil asks, obviously intrigued.

"No one knows," Earl answers. "Dozens have gone missing in the last two and a half years, from across the city. There's no pattern to the disappearances and no way of predicting when – or if – it will happen again. But, sooner or later, it always does. The buildings vanish, foundations and all, and are never seen again. It didn't take the Followers of Huntokar long to declare that this, surely, was another act of aggression by the _Upper_ worlders. So they charged their brightest minds with finding a way to retaliate. To do the same to the Upperworld. To steal Night Valean buildings. It was announced several weeks ago that they were nearly ready to make the first attempt, so we knew it could only be a matter of time. And it seems as though the four of you were caught up in it."

"They stole the clocktower?" Cecil says.

"Yes," Earl replies. "Yes, I would assume that they did. They stole the clocktower whilst the four of you were inside, and they were most likely watching you as you walked through the city. I can only hope that the route I led you through the alleys was enough to lose them. But, either way, news of your arrival will have gotten back to Huntokar, so we're going to have to act fast."

"Wait, what?!" Carlos exclaims. "Huntokar is _real?_ "

"…Carlos, you've seen me – and others – summon demons on multiple occasions," Kevin points out. "Why are you surprised?"

"Because… because those are _demons_. This is apparently a _god_."

"This is a being _worshipped_ as a god," Kevin says, far too easily. "When that happens, nine times out of ten it will turn out to be a demon of some sort."

"And the remaining one time out of ten?" Earl apparently can't stop himself asking.

Kevin shrugs. "A fairly even split between an _actual_ god, and a mortal with a funny costume and plenty of smoke and mirrors."

This gets him very strange looks from both Earl and Atilio. "…You've had some experience with this?" Carlos' father manages.

Kevin shrugs again. "There was an incident. My boss wasn't pleased. On the plus side, I did get to tell everyone I'd defeated a deity in single combat, even if he did turn out to be two guys from Marketing dressed as a giant winged deer."

There's a long, odd silence. It's hard to know what to say when Kevin comes out with these sorts of things.

"There is one other issue," Earl starts off, seeming suddenly reticent. "There are markings on the side of the Overball. To the Acolytes, these markings signify the one who sent the Overball in the first place: not to hurt anyone – they believe that part was an accident – but as a sign that one day he or she would come to Nebolgorod and usher in a new era of peace and prosperity."

Cecil still has an arm around Carlos, which means that Carlos can feel the way the other man jumps a little at this revelation. "…Markings?" Cecil says, softly. Nervously, almost. "What kind of markings?"

It's clear, from the way he's looking at Earl, that both men know. And both men know the other man knows.

And both men have been trying not to say anything until they had to.

The truth dawns in Carlos' mind just before Earl speaks, and confirms it.

"Initials," Earl explains, carefully. "The initials of the one who sent the Overball."

"…And they are..?" Cecil nigh-on whispers.

Earl glances back at the Overball before he speaks. "CGP."

"CGP," Cecil repeats, his tone hollow. "I wanted to believe it couldn't be true… that Teddy was right when he said the ball-return vent had melted it… but…"

"You know what it means?" Atilio asks; clearly the only one here who doesn't.

"Yes," Cecil answers. "My middle name is Gershwin. Cecil Gershwin Palmer. The Overball is mine."

"So," Earl says, "you think Carlos has it bad? They just think he's a demon. But you, Cecil? They'll think you're a god."

And then he looks at Kevin, and smiles; like a man with a plan.

"Imagine what they'll say when they realise there's _two_ of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russian translation notes:
> 
> Eto verno – "that's right"  
> Ochen – "indeed"
> 
> And as for the name of the miniature city:
> 
> Nebol'shoy – "small"  
> Gorod – "city"
> 
> ...Well, Kevin did tell you the Old Nebolgorodians clearly had a sense of humour! ;-)
> 
> \-----------
> 
> And... cliffhanger. Again! So there you have it. I've been waiting _months_ to bring in Earl Harlan - him being down in the miniature city was something I decided on way back when I was writing Part One, before he'd even shown up again in canon. Some of my early plans for Part Two involved the miniature city, and I was going to bring Earl in then, but I decided Part Two needed to focus on Desert Bluffs and I opted to save the miniature city - and Earl - for Part Three. So this reveal has been a long time in the making!
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: There's another revolution on the cards, and Earl might just have found himself the figurehead he needs to get things moving. But the Followers of Huntokar aren't done stealing buildings, and that's going to lead to a whole world of new problems...


	4. Loft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! And, in honour of the fact that it is now mere hours 'til I see the liveshow in Newcastle (EXCITEMENT INTENSIFIES!), I have TWO new chapters for you. Plus, this first one ends with some much-overdue smut.
> 
> So many reasons to be happy! (Shush, I'm wearing my Desert Bluffs t-shirt and it has this effect on me!)

**Loft**

_The time and distance that a thrown bowling ball travels in the air before contacting the lane surface; the brief interlude before hitting the ground rolling._

***

When they all head down from the upstairs balcony, pretty much everyone is in shock. Carlos is still trying to deal with this whole _Demon of the Upperworld_ thing that he _really_ does not need right now, Cecil seems stunned by the revelation that something he's obviously suspected for a very long time is actually _true_ , and Atilio has an expression that Carlos used to see in the mirror on a daily basis when he first moved to Night Vale.

The expression that says: just how insane _is_ this place?

Even Earl looks a little stunned, although Carlos knows the worst is still to come for him, because at some point they're going to have to sit the poor man down and explain just what he's missed in the last year and a half.

The only person who doesn't seem to be in shock is Kevin, though it is significantly harder to tell in his case because he _always_ looks fine, up until the point when it becomes clear that he really, _really_ isn't. Right now, he seems mostly interested in finding the people who are threatening a) the people he loves and b) his adoptive secondary hometown, and dealing with them accordingly.

Might be wise to calm him down at some point, Carlos thinks, and then tries not to get distracted.

OK, not _too_ distracted.

When they get to the bottom of the stairs, Irina is waiting for them. "Everyone's in the common room," she says to Earl. "Do you know what's going on now?"

"Yes, I think so," he tells her. "Come on. You all need to hear this."

So they go on into the common room, which turns out to be a large space filled with comfortable-looking chairs and couches, and an actual fire crackling away in the grate. A quick headcount reveals that there are fifteen children in the room, the youngest seeming no older than eight or nine, and the oldest maybe thirteen or fourteen.

Why are they all here? It's a question that's been lurking at the back of Carlos' mind since they first arrived at the clubhouse, and he can't ignore it now. If it's what passes for night down here, why aren't all these children at home?

"All right," Earl starts out, standing at the head of the room and looking around at his young charges. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Cecil, and Kevin, and Carlos, and Atilio, who is Carlos' dad. They've come from the Overworld. From Night Vale."

"Like _you?_ " asks a wide-eyed boy who must be about ten.

"Yes, Misha," Earl replies. "Like me. But they got here a different way. You remember how I told you all about what the Followers are trying to do?"

"They want to steal buildings!" pipes up a girl sitting close to Misha, who looks like she might well be his older sister.

"Quite right, Vera," Earl says. "They want to steal buildings from Night Vale, because they think that Night Vale is stealing buildings from us."

"Are they?" Irina asks, with a pointed look at their Night Valean visitors.

"No!" Cecil insists. "No. We wouldn't do that. Well… OK, _maybe_ the City Council would, but…"

He falls silent. The thing about Night Vale is sometimes it can be very hard to tell just what _is_ going on, even when you're sure you know.

"If someone in Night Vale _is_ responsible for the disappearing buildings, they're keeping it secret," Kevin chips in, with a remarkably diplomatic edge to his tone. "It's certainly news to all of us."

Cecil looks down at this, an almost uncomfortable edge to his movement, and Carlos is suddenly struck by the possibility that Cecil _does_ know something about it. And that's a little alarming. But he doesn't say anything, not yet. Not until they can speak in private.

"So what do we do, Mr Harlan?" asks one of the older boys.

"That's a very good question, Dmitri," Earl answers. "We need to stop the Followers of Huntokar from stealing any more Night Valean buildings. The last thing we want is an _actual_ conflict flaring up between the two cities."

"But _how_?" Irina pushes. "The Followers don't listen to us."

"No," Earl agrees. "They might, however, listen to the people _with_ us."

All eyes go to their Night Valean visitors, and Carlos is once more possessed of the urge to hide behind Cecil. He manages not to this time, though. And Earl, for his part, looks back at them before he speaks.

"I told you all that our visitors come from Night Vale," Earl goes on, attention on his young charges once more. "From the Overworld. They're here because the Followers stole their first building tonight – the Night Valean clocktower – and these four were inside when it appeared down here. Being brought down here also made them shrink to our size but, normally, they are much bigger. And one of them has been here before."

"…That would be me," Carlos says, softly. "I came down to investigate the city, a little over a year ago. I…"

He trails off. Talking about it is not fun. He's spared from having to say more as Irina's eyes go wide, and she gasps, waving an arm in his direction.

"Oh!" she exclaims. "I knew it! I knew you looked _just_ like him, but… you _are_ him, aren't you? You're the Demon of the Overworld!"

Excited gasps and murmurs break out among the gaggle of children, as they all turn to stare at him.

Carlos sighs. "So it would seem. I really wasn't trying to hurt anyone, though. I just wanted to find out if this city actually existed."

"This is so exciting!" exclaims little Misha, as only a child can. "If you're the Demon of the Overworld, you can help us!"

"I can try," Carlos answers, doing his best to look braver than he feels.

"There's more," Earl adds, which makes all the children turn their attention back to him once again. "We don't just have the Demon of the Overworld in our midst. We also have the one who sent the Overball itself."

The room goes deathly silent, as fifteen sets of wide eyes look over at their other guests. After a moment, Cecil gives a little wave, taking a step forward.

"Uh… that would be me," he admits. "The Overball is mine. The letters on the side… they're my initials: CGP. Cecil Gershwin Palmer."

"…And there's _two_ of you," Irina says, the only one of the scouts who dares speak after this revelation. "So you _must_ be magic."

"Oh, we're not _magic_ ," Kevin insists, smoothly. "But I bet we could work a little of it."

"You can do _magic?_ " Misha whispers.

"That's one way to look at it," Kevin replies. "I can summon demons. Helpful demons. Or… the other kind."

Earl glances back at him. "Wait, what? Seriously?"

Kevin nods, not bothering to keep the slightly smug edge out of his expression. Which is when Earl – perhaps in response – drops the next bombshell.

"Cecil used to do that, too. Back in his wild youth."

"Earl!" Cecil exclaims, blushing suddenly. "We agreed not to talk about it!"

"…Yes. Yes, we did," Earl replies, though he doesn't look entirely sorry.

This is just making things worse. Now all the children are staring at them as if they _are_ a trio of gods from the mystical Overworld, Kevin is staring at Cecil in stunned delight, and Cecil is studiously trying to avoid everyone's eyes.

And poor Atilio is looking very bewildered. Carlos is going to have a lot of apologising to do when all this is over.

"What do we do now?" Vera asks.

Earl puts his hands on his hips. "We need to wait until morning. If we go running around any more tonight, we are definitely going to end up attracting too much attention from the Followers. But once everyone is up and about, we can move through the city without it being obvious."

"Where exactly are you planning to go?" Kevin pushes.

"To the Cathedral of Huntokar," Earl answers. "I don't know how the Followers are stealing buildings, but – however they're doing it – they're doing it from there."

"This isn't safe, is it?" Cecil asks.

"Honestly?" Earl says. "No. No, it isn't safe. But I don't have a choice. You do, though…"

"Of course we don't," Cecil insists, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We'll help."

_Well_ , Carlos thinks, _here we go again…_

***

With the plan decided on, Earl bids the miniature scouts goodnight and leads his guests out of the common room and through a door that turns out to connect into the adjacent building.

"This is where I live," he tells them. "It's connected to the clubhouse, but the kids don't come through here, so you can talk freely."

The house in question has a similar décor to the clubhouse – and, indeed, if you didn't know they were separate, you might not realise straight away – but with more personal touches once Carlos starts to look. Earl Harlan may only have lived here for a year, but he certainly seems to have settled in.

It must have been terrifying, to begin with. Being cast away from everything and everyone that he knew. Although, given that he got here by escaping from an otherworldly plane, it was probably an improvement on where he had been.

Earl leads them into his living room, waving them into the couches there, and then busies himself making something that he describes as "Not quite coffee, but close."

It's surprisingly good, too, Carlos has to admit, hoping it contains caffeine. It needs to contain caffeine. There needs to be caffeine down here or things are rapidly going to become problematic. Well, OK, _more_ problematic.

An odd silence descends. There are a lot of unanswered questions hanging in the air, and no one seems quite able to work out where to begin.

"So," Earl manages. "You said you had some things to tell me? About what's been happening in Night Vale?"

"Yes," Cecil says, carefully. "Just… just listen, OK? Some of this might come as a bit of a shock…"

And so – starting with the incident at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex – Cecil slowly tells Earl the story of the last year and a half, helped along the way by Carlos and Kevin. Earl somehow manages to just sit and listen, though there's a whirlwind of emotions in his eyes, and Carlos can only imagine what hearing all this at once must be like. There's quite a lot to cover: mainly the incursion by Strexcorp, and the Battle of Night Vale, and then all the ensuing events in Desert Bluffs. But Cecil – ever the storyteller – includes plenty of other little details that will obviously matter to Earl, such as how the Night Vale scout troupe is doing, and how the Spiderwolves fared last season, and the whole incident with the submarine.

A lot of this is obviously new to Atilio, too, and he listens in what seems to be a mixture of interest, bemusement and shock, depending on the precise topic in hand. Carlos keeps wondering if he should interject and explain, but – honestly – most of this stuff _can't_ be explained. Plus you don't interrupt Cecil when he's on a roll, especially when listening to him is so soothing and helps enormously with everything _else_ that's going on.

In amongst it all, Cecil tells the story of how he and Carlos got together, and then how the two of them and Kevin got together. And Earl… well, Earl looks like a man who is trying very hard to be happy for one of his oldest friends.

Carlos wonders how long the man has been carrying a torch for said friend. And, indeed, if Cecil has ever realised it. And… it sort of hurts, in a weird way.

When the story reaches its end, Earl looks down. "That's… more than I expected," he manages.

"It's more than _we_ expected," Cecil agrees. "And now… this."

"Yeah," Earl replies. "Now this."

"Can I ask something?" Atilio says.

Earl nods. "Of course."

"You said it's the middle of the night here? So… why are all those children not at home?"

It's a good question. It's one Carlos would like an answer to as well.

Earl looks sad. "Essentially, they are," he answers. "They live next door, in the clubhouse."

Atilio headtilts. "They don't have homes of their own? Or… families?"

"They did," Earl sighs, softly. "They're victims of the stolen buildings. Their homes were among those that have been taken in the last two and a half years."

Carlos feels himself go cold. "And… their parents?"

"…Were in the buildings when they were stolen," Earl answers. "I didn't just form this scout troupe to enhance the lives of these young people. I did it because they had nowhere else to go."

"And that is very noble of you," Atilio points out, in full father-mode. "I imagine you don't get told that often enough."

"No, I don't," Earl says, softly. "I was already an outsider, and now they think I'm a zealot for agreeing with the Acolytes. But, honestly, all I want to do is help these kids. Protect them. Make Nebolgorod a place where they can live without fear."

"All the more reason for us to help you," Cecil insists. "Even if all of this is _very_ weird."

Earl stares at him. "Cecil, you've just told me a story involving a massive corporation run by demons, two revolutions, and a _very_ controversial mayoral election, to say nothing of the part involving you ending up in a relationship with _two_ men, of whom, the last time we spoke, one wouldn't talk to you and the other you wanted to kill."

Carlos cringes. Kevin looks far too pleased with himself. "Nothing says 'I love you' like wanting to kill someone a little bit," he declares, calmly. "Or… wanting to chain them up in a basement and do wicked things to them, at least…"

"Kevin! Not in front of my dad!" Carlos insists, picking up one of the couch cushions and throwing it at Kevin, as if this might somehow make him desist.

Kevin catches the cushion with ease, lays it on the empty seat beside him, and smoothes it delicately into place.

There is just no stopping some people. Even in front of your father. And Carlos is studiously avoiding looking at his right now.

"Things… changed," Cecil says to Earl, obviously trying to explain himself and move the conversation along at the same time. "I told you some of it might come as a shock."

"You weren't wrong," Earl replies.

"What happens next?" Carlos asks, doing _his_ part to move the conversation right _away_ from things he'd really rather not discuss now. Or in front of his dad. Or, indeed, ever.

Earl sighs. "I'm trying to stay strong for the kids, but honestly? All of this is a long-shot at best. Come the morning, our best option is to do what I said: to go to the Cathedral of Huntokar and try to find out how the Followers stole that clocktower of yours. And how to stop them doing it again. And – I won't lie to you – our best hope is the fact that, to many of them, one of you is viewed as a demon and one of you is viewed as a god. And Kevin… I don't even know what they're going to make of you."

"Can't I be a little of both?" Kevin asks, with an extremely wicked grin.

"…Very probably," Earl concedes. "Between the three of you… maybe you can reason with them. Or maybe we can just find a way to stop them. Or…"

He looks down. "…I haven't thought this through all the way to the end."

"Don't worry about that," Cecil insists. "The thing with revolutions is not to over-think them."

"Cecil, have we not already discussed how bad you are at revolutions?" Kevin interjects.

"Hey, I've helped win two, haven't I?"

"Yes," Kevin replies. "Yes, you have. Luckily you had me around to provide the necessary guidance, or you'd probably still be wandering around the house that doesn't exist. Assuming you hadn't already been caught trying to hide out with your own _sister_."

"That was _one_ time… and it worked, didn't it?"

"Only because Strexcorp thought you were too ridiculous to pose a real threat."

It's friendly bickering, certainly, and Carlos will never get tired of listening to his chiral boyfriends trying to outdo each other. But there's a slight heat to Cecil's tone that Carlos can't ignore – and Kevin will surely notice as soon as he pauses for long enough – which Carlos knows is indicative of something deeper.

Something isn't right. Cecil has been trying to hide it all the way through this, but something isn't right.

"…Tell us," Carlos says, softly, making both doubles stop in their tracks and look at him.

"Tell you what?" Cecil replies, a tremor in his voice that gives him away all the more.

"Whatever it is that you're _not_ telling us," Carlos answers.

Cecil looks down, going very quiet. "I don't know if I should," he admits.

Kevin stands up at once, moving over to Cecil and kneeling in front of him, taking his hands. There's no ulterior edge to the action, though – no sense that he's misbehaving or trying to wind anyone up – and his tone is serious as he speaks.

"Cecil. You can tell us anything. You know that. And the look in your eyes… I know it. I've seen it in the mirror too many times."

"You shouldn't use those things. They're dangerous."

"Focus, Cecil."

"…I know. Sorry. I…"

He looks down. Kevin slips a hand under his chin, gently making him raise his head again.

"…I think I know who is stealing the Nebolgorodian buildings," Cecil whispers. "I think… I've known for a long time."

"Cecil. Knowing doesn't make it your fault," Kevin points out. The man can be scarily logical and lucid when he wants to be, and that's alarming in its own right, because Carlos is aware of where it all comes from.

Or, he's aware of enough of it, at least.

"I know," Cecil replies. "But… I've known, all this time. First I suspected, then I knew for sure. Maybe I should have done something. Maybe, if I had… they wouldn't have tried to kill Carlos…"

"Tell us," Kevin pushes, very gently. "Tell us, so we can work this through."

Cecil takes a deep breath. "All right. I… so, sometimes, when I'm broadcasting – and especially when I used to broadcast alone – I would get these… stories… popping into my head."

"Stories?" Kevin repeats.

Cecil nods. "Yes. Stories about people, or events, or… or both. Stories about things happening in Night Vale, but things that I wouldn't otherwise know about. Stories about people I've never met. And there was one… quite a long time back… about a person – a man, I think, though I was never certain – who came to Night Vale on a whim and never left. He – I think it was a 'he' – had a strange job involving loading trucks with crates, out in the desert. One day – again on a whim – he took one of these crates and drove off with it. The people in question came after him to get it back, and I don't know what happened to him in the end, but I do know that he found out what was in the crates."

"And what _was_ in the crates?" Earl asks.

"Miniature houses," Cecil answers, a little wretchedly.

"You know, I vaguely remember this one," Earl says, expression going distant. "But what makes you think the houses were from Nebolgorod?"

"Because… there was a second part to the story," Cecil tells him. "It came into my head much later, long after… long after you had disappeared. It was during the occupation by Strexcorp, when I was broadcasting pirate radio from WZZZ. The second story was about the people who had the crates, and in it… one of them stated, explicitly, that the crates contained houses taken from the miniature city. From here. And I… I tried not to think about it, because I was trying to deal with the whole revolution-thing and –" he looks at his double, "–the whole _Kevin_ -thing, but… but I knew it was bad."

"Who were these people?" Kevin asks, unfazed. "Who _are_ these people?"

Cecil doesn't answer straight away. "…They never stated it explicitly, but… I was the storyteller. I was the storyteller, and the storyteller _always knows_. They were from a government agency. A vague-yet-menacing government agency."

"…Oh, this just keeps getting better and better," Earl breathes, looking like he thinks this is _anything_ but 'better'.

"I know," Cecil says. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Kevin insists, gripping his double's hands tight again. "None of this is your fault."

"It sort of is, though," Cecil replies. "I mean… that bowling ball was mine. All that destruction, all those _deaths_ … they're my fault."

"No," Atilio cuts in, softly. "No, Cecil, they aren't. From what you've said, that bowling ball falling down here was an accident, and you didn't even realise it was yours until today. And the fact that you know who has been taking the houses doesn't make you complicit in it. And… this is one of the weirdest paragraphs I've ever said out loud. How do you people find all of this so normal?"

"You get used to it," Carlos says. "And… Cecil, my dad is right. None of this is your fault. And the extra things you know can only help us. Even if I am more than a little alarmed about the prospect of going up against the vague-yet-menacing government agency."

For _reasons_.

***

With the plan for the morning set, Earl tells them that they should try to get a few hours' sleep. Given that it was only mid-afternoon in Night Vale when they first came down here, this may not be the easiest thing in the world, but Carlos knows that, if they don't adjust to Nebolgorodian time, they're going to suffer more in the long-term.

The part of the building that makes up Earl's house turns out to have a guestroom. Carlos tries to be good and noble and insist that his father takes it, but Atilio merely looks at his son and his son's two boyfriends and says he will be perfectly happy with the couch.

Precisely how Carlos feels about his father's reaction to his rather unusual relationship, he isn't sure. Although, Atilio still seems happy enough with the news, so that has to count for something.

Plus Carlos is secretly glad for the chance to get a little time alone with his boyfriends. He needs it. And moreover, he knows they do too.

Cecil especially.

And, as soon as Cecil leaves the room – the last of the three of them to duck into the little bathroom out on the landing – Kevin immediately turns to Carlos, stepping in close and putting a hand on his hip.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asks.

"Probably not, no," Carlos can't quite help replying. "You're usually thinking things about knives and blood. And not always in English."

Kevin smirks. "You're cute when you're sassy. And all the other times. But no. Right now…" His expression goes more serious. "…I'm thinking that Cecil needs some attention."

"Seconded," Carlos agrees.

"So… you want to help me with that?"

Now it's Carlos' turn to smile. "You just try to stop me."

"Well, I _could_ tie you to that chair and make you _watch_ …" Kevin points out, in a tone of voice that Carlos simply cannot resist.

"You could," he manages in reply. "But… I think you should let me help."

"I think so too."

"Especially because Cecil will like it. And also because this place seems to be about nine hours ahead of Night Valean time, which means I'm going to spend tomorrow with terrible jetlag. Clocktowerlag. One of those. And I'm not sure if there's any actual caffeine in that uncoffee Earl has."

The sudden paragraphing means he's slightly nervous, and Carlos knows it. But it's understandable. Usually, when there's any tag-teaming to be done, it's Kevin and Cecil tag-teaming _him_. Or, to a lesser extent, he and Cecil tag-teaming Kevin, when Kevin needs calming down.

But this? They haven't done it this way very often at all.

And Carlos can't deny he's excited. Even if he should be taking it seriously, because he knows Cecil needs them.

Besides. He's a scientist. He can multi-task.

Kevin smiles. "I like it when you agree with me."

That voice is going to have Carlos doing more than just 'agree' if Kevin doesn't tone it down.

And the other man knows it, of course. He smiles more. "Follow my lead?"

Carlos nods. "Always."

At this point, the door to the little attic guestroom opens, and Cecil steps in, shutting the door behind him again. He sees his boyfriends standing close together, and smiles.

"Even in the middle of all this, I can always count on the two of you to make me feel better."

"And you're about to see just how much," Kevin says.

Without waiting for a response, he reaches out and pulls Cecil in between them, so he's facing Carlos with Kevin pressed up against his back. Carlos wastes no time wrapping his arms around Cecil, kissing him at once, whilst Kevin strokes down his sides, over his skin, pressing in to nibble teasingly along the curve of his neck.

"Mmmm," Cecil murmurs, as the kiss breaks. "That feels good."

"We're just getting started," Kevin breathes, in his double's ear. "Now… _relax_. Relax, and let us make you feel a whole lot better…"

"I'm fine, really," Cecil insists, though in the tone of a man who is ready to admit to _not_ being fine, if it means he gets to keep enjoying all of this.

"Cecil," Carlos says, in what he only realises _after_ he's started speaking is scientist-wrangling voice, "you need this. You need _us_. You're always the one to take care of us when we need you. So… let us take care of you for once."

And, to seal the deal, he pushes in to kiss Cecil again, as firm and as deep as he can, and the way the other man just _melts_ against him is really very gratifying. And far too lovely.

Plus, at this point, Kevin's hands start to move further south, and Cecil makes a soft murmur of delight as one of those hands pushes between his legs.

"You really are more pliable than you think," Kevin murmurs in Cecil's ear, and Carlos can feel how the man between them reacts to the words. "So… you just relax and let us chase all that worry out of you, and replace it with _us_. Just us. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

" _Yes_ ," Cecil whispers.

They hold him for another moment, Carlos pressing in to kiss Cecil once more, and Kevin still letting his hands wander teasingly over his double's body. And then they tug him gently down onto the bed, lying him in the middle with Kevin on his left and Carlos on his right.

"We love you so much," Carlos tells him, laying soft, light kisses against Cecil's lips, over and over. Cecil arches a little to kiss him back, which means the other side of his throat is bared, and Kevin is quick to seize the invitation, kissing and nibbling up the edge of Cecil's neck.

"I love you too," Cecil murmurs in reply. "Both of you. I… _oh_ …"

"Shhhhh," Kevin says, and Carlos can feel how Cecil responds to that, tensing not in fear but in anticipation. In _need_. "You trust us, don't you?"

Cecil turns to look at him. "With my _life_ ," he answers, clearly meaning every syllable.

Kevin smiles, but there's barely more than a hint of wickedness in it, and all the rest is love. Adoration, even. "Just like me," he whispers, and kisses his double, firm but gentle, stroking a hand over his chest at the same time.

" _Please_ ," Cecil says, softly, as the kiss breaks. "I need you. Both of you. I…"

As Cecil speaks, Kevin flicks his eyes up to meet Carlos', and Carlos just _understands_ without Kevin needing to say a word out loud, and… OK, is _that_ how the two of them do it?

He nods, and puts a hand on the side of Cecil's face, gently turning him back and then pressing in to kiss him, slow and careful. Carlos is vaguely aware that Kevin is moving, is doing something off to the side, and on some level he gets the sense that he himself might be acting as some kind of distraction right now, albeit a very good one.

As the kiss breaks, Carlos rests his forehead against Cecil's, just enjoying the closeness.

"That felt good," Cecil whispers. "I… _oh_ …"

It's at this point that Kevin – in the middle of doing whatever it is that he's up to – moves down, slides Cecil's pyjama trousers off, and pushes a hand between his legs, starting to stroke his double firmly. It gets him quite a reaction, too, as Cecil holds on tighter to Carlos, though drops his head back at the same time.

" _Yes_ ," he gasps. "Oh yes…"

Kevin grins up at him. "I thought you'd approve."

"I do. I _really_ do. Please don't stop."

"Not a chance, double mine," Kevin tells him. "We're just getting started. Carlos… I found lubricant if you want to help me out here…"

His expression is positively wicked now. Carlos, on the other hand, stares at him in surprise.

"You did?"

"Yes. You want to question it, or you want to help me drive this incredible man out of his incredible mind?"

"…I'll go for the second option…" Carlos concedes, with a grin of his own, before slicking two fingers with the lubricant and then starting to slowly, carefully push one of them into Cecil.

" _Ohyes_ ," Cecil gasps, dropping back completely against the bed. He looks so unbelievably beautiful like this, open and vulnerable and wanting, and Carlos starts to cover him with kisses, wherever he can reach.

"I could watch the two of you all night," Kevin says, suddenly. He hasn't stopped slowly stroking Cecil, but isn't moving otherwise, lying propped with his head on his free hand, staring at the two of them. "Even if all you'd ever done was let me watch… I'd still be the happiest man alive."

Cecil reaches up to hold onto him at that, pulling him in closer, and Kevin obliges. "Don't you dare go anywhere," Cecil tells him.

Kevin kisses him softly. "Never," he promises. "And don't you dare doubt that you can do this. Because you can." He grins again. "No matter how bad you are at revolutions."

Cecil grins too. "Maniac," he says, very warmly.

"Maniac's double," Kevin replies.

Carlos really could watch _them_ flirt like this all night. Although, given where his hand is right now, he can _also_ slip a second finger into Cecil precisely when the man isn't expecting it, and thereby cause him to gasp in delight and go incoherent again.

Kevin looks over at Carlos with an extraordinarily approving expression in his eyes. Carlos merely shrugs. "It's always the quiet ones."

"Isn't it just?" Kevin agrees, and leans over to kiss him.

And _oh_ , but that feels good, and it makes the need flare in Carlos all the more. Though it must be minor in comparison to the need Cecil is feeling right now, if the raptured look in his eyes is anything to go by. He waits for their kiss to break and then whispers, "Please. I need you. Both of you. _Please_."

"You have us, Cecil," Kevin tells him, in a voice that is half soothing and half wicked, and thereby delightfully contradictory. He punctuates it with a very firm stroke that makes Cecil arch up against them a little, crying out in desperate pleasure.

"Oh, don't stop, don't stop..!"

The man is close, no doubt about it, and Carlos can tell from the look in Kevin's eyes – to say nothing of past experience – that he has no intention of letting it all end here. He gives Carlos a nod, and, after another moment, they both stop what they're doing; Carlos gently sliding his fingers free, and Kevin letting go.

Cecil cries out again, somewhat more plaintively this time, and Kevin puts a hand on his chest to keep him still. And, on a whim, Carlos does the same. And oh, but it feels strange to be doing it this way round. Strange to be the one feeling the heady edge of control – albeit somewhat second-hand – instead of the desperate bliss of surrender.

"Please… please…" Cecil murmurs.

"Shhhh," Kevin whispers, pushing up to kiss his double on the jaw. "Relax, Cecil. Relax. You know we won't keep you waiting _too_ long…"

He looks at Carlos. "Come here, you," he says, pulling Carlos upright so they're both kneeling over Cecil, and then kissing him. Kissing him _hard_ ; hard enough to make Carlos moan softly in delight.

More than hard enough to drive Cecil out of his mind just from watching.

As the kiss breaks, Kevin smirks, hand drifting between Carlos' legs now. "Clothes off," he says, in that bright, certain tone that Carlos cannot resist. "I want you in the middle."

And Carlos is more than happy to oblige, though he's deliberately slow in sliding his pyjama trousers off, if only to make Kevin touch him more. To help.

Or the other thing. The man indulges him to begin with, but then speeds things up all at once, pulling Carlos over once he's stripped and positioning him between Cecil's legs. He strips himself too and then goes for the lubricant, pressing in behind Carlos and reaching around to start stroking him. Hard. With more than a little of the lubricant in question.

Cecil actually whimpers somewhat at the sight of that, eyes going dark with need. Carlos, meanwhile, drops his head back onto Kevin's shoulder, giving in to the attention whilst he has it, and loving that Cecil is watching. And _wanting_. It makes that strange feeling inside his mind dial up all the more, conflicting with the ever-present need to give in.

So when Kevin suddenly lets go of _him_ , Carlos can't help a plaintive murmur of his own. "I think you know what to do now," Kevin whispers in his ear.

Carlos does not need telling twice. He curls down over Cecil, starting to slowly, carefully, push into him. The other man reaches up, holding on, and Carlos can see in his eyes how good this feels. How much he needs it.

It's a familiar sensation.

" _Yes_ ," Cecil gasps, as Carlos first moves his hips, "oh _yes_ , just like that…"

Before Carlos can respond, he feels Kevin run a hand down his back, fingertips trailing over his skin, before he moves in closer and starts to push into him. And that's so good that the whole world whites-out for a second, as Carlos coasts the dizzy wave of bliss that follows it.

When the world reasserts, he realises Cecil is smiling at him. "Good?" the other man asks.

" _Wonderful_ ," Carlos answers.

And it is. It's beyond wonderful. He's caught between the two of them, every movement feeling more incredible than he can put into words, Kevin breathing wicked promises in his ear, and Cecil holding onto them both as though breaking that connection might end the universe.

Maybe it might. Round here, you can never be quite sure. Especially with these two.

On some level, Carlos wants to stay like this forever, coasting on how amazing it feels. But he knows, from the look in Cecil's eyes, that forever is very much not an option. Not given how much they've wound him up already.

And Kevin – who, judging by the tone in his voice, is riding a massive power-high – clearly knows it too. "Stroke him," he nigh-on growls in Carlos' ear. "I want to feel you pull him apart."

It takes more than a little concentration for Carlos not to lose it at that, but somehow he holds on, pushing a hand down between himself and Cecil and starting to stroke the man hard. And that certainly gets a reaction, as Cecil's eyes roll back all at once, and he bucks up as much as a man with two other men on top of him can manage.

" _Yes!_ " he cries. "Like that, like that, please don't stop, I… _oh..!_ "

And he comes, so hard that Carlos has to hold him still as completion tears through Cecil like a tidal wave. He cries out, and though there's no coherence in it, the bliss and happiness is very much unhidden. Carlos keeps on stroking him until the last tremors fade, at which point Kevin jolts _him_ forward and, in no more than seconds, undoes him just as decisively. And though Cecil still looks out of his mind, he holds tightly onto Carlos as he comes too, pleasure chasing through him like wildfire, and twice as insistent.

"Oh yes," Carlos gasps. "I love you. Both of you. _I love you_."

"We love you too," Kevin murmurs in his ear. "So – very – much."

And with three last thrusts, one to punctuate each word, he comes as well, holding onto Carlos as the pleasure overtakes, murmuring in what Carlos is relatively confident is Linear-B as he finally collapses down against the two of them, trying to catch his breath.

" _Oh_ , that was good," he manages, switching back into English.

"Yeah," Carlos agrees, hazily. "Yeah, that was good."

Cecil reaches up and holds onto them both, very tightly. "I love you," he murmurs.

"We love you too," Carlos tells him.

It's another moment before any of them moves, given how very lovely it is to be curled together like this, but eventually they do: pulling back and lying in a more sustainable tangle, with Cecil in the middle, gathered tightly into Carlos' arms, and Kevin pressed close against Cecil's back.

"Better?" Kevin murmurs in his double's ear.

"Yes," Cecil answers, voice still a little distant.

"Good, good," Kevin replies. "Rest, now. Tomorrow we save the world."

They're getting rather practiced at that.


	5. Double

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SUPER excited to share this chapter with you... but I won't say any more 'til the end!

**Double**

_Two strikes in a row during a single bowling game._

***

When the Nebolgorodian morning comes, Carlos cannot work out what time it is. Or, at least, what time it would claim to be if such a thing really existed. What he does know is that he fell asleep earlier than he would have done if he _wasn't_ down here, and has now woken up _far_ earlier than he would have done, and he has no idea what time it is supposed to be.

And there is still no coffee. Though there is, at least, that weird uncoffee that Earl has, which feels like a passable substitute once Carlos has had three cups.

Earl appears to have mastered the art of making breakfast for a lot of people, given that he has his scout troupe to cater for as well as his guests. And Carlos can't help feeling that the man should be introduced to Naomi Hartley, because they apparently have similar views on the importance of preceding revolutions with breakfast.

When they're done, Earl sends the scouts off to school, led by Irina and Dmitri, who seem to be the most sensible and mature. He watches them go from the doorway of the clubhouse, waving at Misha until the little line of young people disappears around the corner at the end of the alleyway, and then sags slightly.

"I worry about them," he admits, without turning. "But it's better they go to school than come with us."

"It is," Cecil agrees, putting a hand on his old friend's shoulder. Cecil himself is – gratifyingly – in a much better mood this morning, and Carlos can't help a smile every time he notices.

"Right," Earl says, heavily, taking a deep breath. "We should get moving. We don't know when the Followers plan on stealing their next building, so we can't risk waiting any longer."

So they set out: Earl leading the way, with his four guests staying close. Carlos tries to talk his father into remaining at the clubhouse but, unsurprisingly, Atilio is having none of it.

"I came here to see you," he reminds his son, gently. "And if this is what you do, then I'm going to be a part of it."

The alleyways are quiet – clearly why Earl lives here – but once they reach the main roadway they're suddenly in the midst of rather more activity. Nebolgorod is awake, no doubt about it, and getting on with its day. It's much brighter now, too, which Carlos realises is due to what seems to a huge ring of vast spotlights surrounding the city.

"In the past, they had flaming beacons," Earl tells him, when he questions it. "Things were much safer once they discovered electricity. Parts of Nebolgorod used to burn down a lot. But it was the only way to regulate the day-night cycle."

"But why _have_ a day-night cycle at all?" Carlos has to ask. "If they've always lived down here…"

Earl shrugs. "I don't know. This place has history that its own people don't seem to remember."

Given that it's under Night Vale, Carlos supposes this is pretty much par for the course.

There aren't many private vehicles in Nebolgorod – meaning the roads are used mostly for walking – but they soon start seeing what look like monorail stations at fairly regular intervals.

"The transit system," Earl explains. "Installed about twenty years back, I think. It revolutionised things down here. But we're better staying on foot. If they're looking for us, they're more likely to find us on the trains."

Carlos, certainly, isn't going to object. He finally has a chance to see Nebolgorod – the miniature city – as it really is: a hub of life and people and existence. And… it's a little less scary, from this perspective. Even given everything that's going on.

The people, too, seem so… normal. When he pays careful attention, Carlos can sense something about them, something _other_ , but on the surface – no pun intended – they seem as human as he does. They walk along – some in groups, some alone – talking or drinking uncoffee, looking in shop windows or pausing to check the time.

So very normal. And these are the people who tried to kill him. Or… their leaders are, at least, which isn't usually the same thing.

They walk for quite a while, staying close together but trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. And though there are a few moments where Earl hesitates, or looks around warily, for the most part things are uneventful.

At least, they're uneventful until they reach a large, wide-open lot, fairly close to the city centre. Earl pauses and stares at it in surprise.

"OK… that's not right," he murmurs.

"What's not right?" Cecil asks.

Earl gestures carefully to the open lot, which is surrounded by a chain-link fence. Hanging on the fence, at regular intervals, are boards displaying a single emblem, which looks like a large X with a vertical line down the centre, or perhaps a mirrored capital K.

"That lot has been empty for a long time," Earl explains. "But it wasn't fenced-off yesterday. And that symbol – the one on all those boards – that's the emblem of the Followers of Huntokar. Also, the two men over there, by what looks like the main gate? The ones dressed in red and purple? They're Followers, no doubt about it."

"What do you think they're doing?" Cecil wonders.

Which is when Carlos realises. "…This is an empty lot. And the Followers are trying to steal buildings. And if they steal them… they have to put them somewhere."

"Carlos, you're a genius," Cecil says, wrapping an arm around him.

"You think this is where the next stolen building will appear?" Kevin wonders.

"Makes sense," Earl agrees. "I don't think they would have stepped up security like this otherwise."

All of a sudden a shout rings out across the area, most likely from someone using a loudspeaker, though Carlos can't pinpoint precisely where they are. He can't understand the words, either: because although everyone here seems to – inexplicably – speak English, the shout is in a different language.

"…Oh dear," Kevin says, at once.

"Oh dear?" Cecil repeats.

"That was in Russian," Kevin explains, and then – despite everything – grins. "Sorry, in _Old Nebolgorodian_."

"What did it mean?" Carlos asks.

Kevin's expression goes more serious. " _'Glory to Huntokar'_ ," he replies.

"That isn't good, is it?" Cecil says.

"That isn't good," Earl agrees.

At this point, the air goes electric, and a low, steady thrumming starts to cut through it.

"…That isn't good either!" Earl exclaims.

He's not wrong. Seconds later, the electric sensation in the air and the thrumming both dial up to at least eleven, if not twelve, rising and rising until Carlos can feel it in his chest… and then the whole feeling snaps, at the same time as a vibrant burst of white light blazes over the empty lot up ahead of them.

They – like the various Nebolgorodians dotted around – raise their hands to shield their eyes, slowly lowering them again as the light dies down, revealing…

The empty lot is no longer empty. It now contains a building: a large, imposing building, completely shrouded in thick, black velvet. Cecil gasps in horror, gripping Carlos' hand in obvious alarm.

"City Hall!" he breathes. "That's City Hall!"

And it is. Night Vale City Hall is now standing directly ahead of them, swathed in the black velvet cloak it is covered in every night, because – of course – it is still night-time up there.

"Wow, these guys are not messing around, are they?" Kevin says, with that edge to his tone that suggests he'd really like to find someone to stab right about now. "First the Clocktower, now City Hall?"

"The Followers mean business," Earl replies, his own voice more than a little hollow. "This is even worse than I expected."

As if in answer, a great shrieking is slowly starting up from inside the stolen building: a cacophonous, primal howling, over and over and over.

"Merciful Huygens, what is that _sound_?" Atilio murmurs.

"The building custodians," Cecil answers. "They never leave, so they'd be inside regardless of what time it was. And they… well, not surprisingly, they wouldn't react positively to having their home stolen and teleported underground. And shrunk, although they probably don't know about that part yet. And…"

His expression goes even more hollow. "…What if there are other people inside? What if..?"

"Cecil, it's the middle of the night up there," Carlos points out. "Surely no one but the custodians would be in the building?"

"We don't know that for sure," Cecil says. "Sometimes… sometimes Dana… sorry, _Mayor Cardinal_ … works late. Or early. She's very dedicated."

"Then we need to get inside," Kevin replies, with a single-minded focus that catches Carlos' attention. Something about Dana always has this effect on him, and Carlos can't help thinking it has more to do with just the fact that she saved Kevin's life. Though that is definitely part of it.

"If you want to march up to those guards and ask to be let in, be my guest," Earl says. "But I don't think it will end well."

Kevin claps him on the shoulder, which makes Earl's expression all kinds of complicated. "I'm not going in that way," he says, calmly. "We'll go round the back."

Earl stares at him. "Round the back?"

"Yes."

"Round the back where there is no gate in the high metal fence?"

"Yes. You want to discuss it, or you want to get in there?"

"Actually, I'd be quite happy _not_ going in there, if it's all the same to you," Earl answers.

"But we have to go in!" Cecil insists. "We need to make sure no one from Night Vale is inside."

And there really is no arguing with both doubles when they're this determined. The group makes its way carefully around the side of the square, trying to stay unobtrusive amongst the everyday Nebolgorodians, many of whom are staring at the stolen building in surprise. Luckily, things are indeed much quieter around the back, and they're soon out of sight of anyone else and – crucially – out of sight of those red-and-purple-clad guards.

There is still the small matter of the chain-link fence. It's at least eight or nine feet tall, and topped with a row of spikes that makes it clear climbing over is not going to be a possibility.

"…Seriously, though, how are you going to get us through there?" Earl asks, looking very sceptical.

"Easy," Kevin replies, with a smile. "There's just one catch, though. You all have to turn around."

"Turn around?" Atilio repeats.

"Yes," Kevin says. "I can't do it if you watch. Turn around."

"All of us?" Carlos asks.

"All of you!"

Taking the hint, they do as they're told, though Carlos can't work out what Kevin is planning or – indeed – why they can't look. He doesn't get long to muse on it though because – much faster than expected – there is a single, metallic clank.

"Ta-da!" Kevin declares, happily. "You can look now."

They do, and Carlos is somewhat stunned to see that there is now a clear cut through the chain-link fence, which Kevin is holding back to let them through.

"…How did you do that?" Earl asks, very suspiciously.

"Don't ask!" Kevin says, pleasantly, although his tone suggests you really _shouldn't_ question it.

Sometimes it's best not to.

They head through the gap in the fence, and now there's nothing between them and the velvet-clad building except open space. The shrieking of the custodians hasn't stopped, although it's quieter on this side, and Carlos suspects that the… whatever-they-ares… have moved to the front of the building.

Hopefully this is a good thing, as much as any of this can be classed as 'good'.

"Is there a rear door under all this lot?" Earl asks.

"Yes," Cecil says. "Look… there."

And he points to a section of the black velvet that clearly flaps back. Before Earl can respond, however – and proving Cecil right in the process – the section is indeed flung back as the door behind it swings open, and two figures come racing out of the building like their lives depend on it.

They skid to a halt after a few steps, clearly realising that they are not where they expected to be, and staring around in continued alarm.

It's at this point that the group watching them can finally see who they are.

" _No_ ," Cecil growls. "No. Not you. Why of all people did it have to be you?!"

"Cecil?" exclaims Steve Carlsberg, looking like he's not sure whether to be pleased or annoyed. "What in blazes is going on?!"

He has an arm around the second person – who he has clearly been trying to protect on the way out of the building – and that alone is going to earn him points, however much Cecil denies it. And this is because the second person is Dana Cardinal, Mayor of Night Vale. They both relax a little, though still stare in surprise at the group they've just run into.

"Cecil!" Dana exclaims, sounding very much happier to see him than Steve does. "Cecil, where are we? What just happened to City Hall?"

"You're in Nebolgorod," Cecil says, talking mostly to Dana whilst scowling at Steve. "It's the miniature city underneath Lane Five of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex."

"But everything isn't miniature," Steve points out.

"I realise that," Cecil answers, very dryly. "You've been shrunk. Just like we were. We're all miniature now."

"How?" Dana asks.

"It's a long story," Kevin says. "The short version is that the people here have found a way to start stealing Night Valean buildings, because they think that Night Vale has been stealing theirs."

"But we haven't!" Dana exclaims, looking alarmed.

"We know," Cecil replies, that pained flicker back in his eyes. "We think… we don't know for sure, but we think the vague-yet-menacing government agency has been doing it. But the Nebolgorodians believe it was us, so they're retaliating."

At this point, Atilio gently taps his son on the arm. "I take it these are friends of yours?" he asks.

"Yes, sorry, I should have said," Carlos replies. "Dad, this is Dana Cardinal, Mayor of Night Vale, and Steve Carlsberg, Cecil's brother-in-law. Dana, Steve, this is my dad, Atilio."

Despite everything, Dana smiles brightly and shakes Atilio's hand. "It's so lovely to meet you," she says, warmly. "I mean, I wish it were under better circumstances, but…"

"…This is normal for around here?" Atilio completes.

Dana grins. "Yeah. Pretty much."

"So I'm gathering."

"And… well, Steve, you already know Earl Harlan," Cecil says, gesturing between the two of them nonetheless.

"I do," Steve replies, shaking Earl's hand with a cautious flicker in his own. "It's been a long time."

"A very long time," Earl agrees. "And…" He turns to Dana. "…You're Night Vale's new mayor?"

"That's right," she answers. "Dana Cardinal. Before that, I was an intern at the radio station."

"Really?" Earl exclaims, and then looks at Cecil. "You had an intern who survived?"

"Hey, they don't all die!" Cecil replies, defensively. "Besides, Maureen survived too!"

"It worries me that you can count them on one hand, though," Steve points out.

"Well, community radio is a dangerous line of work!" Cecil insists. "And _anyway_ , Steve, what were you doing in City Hall? Isn't it the middle of the night up there?"

Steve folds his arms. "So what if it is? I had important business to see to. Important business on behalf of someone we would _both_ do anything for."

This can only be Janice. Cecil's expression mellows somewhat, though he still looks suspicious.

"I _see_ ," Cecil concedes. "And then?"

"Then the building went _weird_ and all the custodians started _howling_ ," Steve explains. "So I hid in the nearest office, which turned out to be Dana's. Uh… Mayor Cardinal's."

"Please, Dana is fine," she insists. "We're all friends here. And we did save two towns together."

Steve looks rather touched by this. Cecil continues scowling, though only at him, of course.

"The custodians weren't happy," Dana explains. "I was worried they were going to turn on us, so Steve said he would get us both out of the building. And…"

She trails off, and there's an odd flicker in her expression that's mirrored in Steve's.

"What is it?" Kevin asks.

"There was someone else in there," Steve replies, glancing back over his shoulder. "I don't know who it was, but I was convinced someone was following me even _before_ everything went weird."

"Are you sure this isn't just you being paranoid?" Cecil says, somewhat flatly.

"No, he's right," Dana cuts in, in full diplomatic-voice. "I don't know who it was, but I caught sight of them once as we were trying to get out."

"Well… who could it be, then?" Carlos wonders aloud.

There are days when you shouldn't tempt fate. This is, apparently, one of them.

As if in answer, another of the black velvet flaps springs back as the window behind it explodes outwards in a shower of broken glass, and accompanied by several custodian-sounding shrieks. A single figure comes hurtling head-first through the chaos, hitting the ground rather hard and rolling onto their back.

And, despite it all, laughing somewhat hysterically.

For a second, no one moves: all of them clearly waiting to see if the custodians are going to burst through the broken window after the person they've just defenestrated. When they don't, the man on the ground stops laughing and – instead of trying to stand – rolls onto his stomach, kicks his heels back, and grins at everyone.

Carlos feels the bottom drop out of the world. Cecil gasps audibly. And Kevin? Kevin full-on _squeaks_.

The man on the ground stares up at them. He's wearing a labcoat, and has dark hair that, though currently tousled, might otherwise be described as 'perfect' by certain people in the immediate vicinity. And when he smiles, he reveals a mouth of perfect teeth, expression lighting up his whole face.

His very familiar face.

"Hey, Dad," says the man on the ground. "Hey, Carlos."

"…You have a double?!" Cecil exclaims, finally managing to speak.

Carlos facepalms, very much wishing the world would stop doing this to him. "No. No. I do not have a double. I…" He sighs. There's no denying it any longer. "…Everyone, this is Tomas. My twin brother."

"Delighted!" Tomas exclaims. He springs to his feet at last, idly brushing floor and broken glass off himself.

"Are you all right?" their father asks, looking at his other son in concern. "You were just thrown through a window!"

Tomas waves an idle hand back at the building. "That's hardly the first time I've been defenestrated. The trick is not to tense up when you hit the glass. Or, indeed, the ground. And, hey, I'm glad I finally found you! The records office in this place is _really_ hard to navigate, and those weird _things_ in there didn't react kindly to me taking a little wander about."

" _Cecil!_ " Kevin exclaims, a good octave higher than usual, and clearly having just regained the power of speech. "Cecil, look, there's _two_ of them!"

"…So I see," Cecil manages, more able to speak but obviously in shock.

Which is understandable, on account of the part where Carlos hasn't told him – or Kevin – that he even _has_ a brother. Much less a twin.

"…Carlos?" Cecil pushes, gently. "Carlos… why didn't you ever..?"

Before Carlos can even try to explain, Tomas looks Cecil and Kevin up and down, a very drawn flicker in his eyes. " _Carlos_ , aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" he says, in a hint-hint sort of a way. "Apparently twins are all the rage today!"

"They're not twins, they're doubles," Carlos replies, automatically. "They're not related. And also they're my boyfriends so stop eyeing them up like that!"

Tomas' eyes go wide with delight. "Sweet merciful Edison, you're dating again?! And _two_ men at the _same_ time?! Whatever happened to you being the _good_ twin?"

"I am the good twin!" Carlos insists, a little high-pitched. "And… and… lots of things happened! And… shush!"

"… _Two of them!_ " Kevin exclaims, now at least a double-octave higher than usual and rapidly in danger of going supersonic.

"I don't mean to interrupt whatever this is," Steve cuts in – interrupting whatever this is – "but why were you stalking us?"

"Oh, I wasn't stalking you," Tomas insists. "I was just watching you. To work out what you were doing."

"Why are you even here?!" Carlos cuts back in.

"Seriously, little brother, chill," Tomas tells him. "You're freaking out way more than is necessary."

"I am freaking out _precisely_ as much as is necessary," Carlos retorts. "And don't call me little. Three minutes and fourteen seconds does not make me little!"

"Yeah, it kinda does," Tomas says. "On account of time."

"Time isn't real."

"…Boys," Atilio cuts in, in full dad-voice, and both twins immediately fall silent.

"Carlos," Cecil starts out again, looking a little worried. "Carlos… why didn't you ever tell us you had a brother?"

Carlos very much wants to run for the hills right now. Only… there aren't any hills, on account of them being underground. And miniature. And… oh, but this is so very, very awkward.

He sighs, really wishing he didn't have to do this in front of people. Or, indeed, at all.

"…Because… because… things happened, and he and I, we… we disagreed over some stuff, and…"

Which is when Carlos snaps. If he's telling the truth, he's telling the whole truth, no matter how much worse it makes the whole situation.

"…And he works for the vague-yet-menacing government agency, so… so there!"

A very strange silence descends. Tomas sighs. "Oh, Carlos, you know you're not supposed to tell people," he says.

"Yes, well, you're not supposed to come bursting out of windows in the miniature city underneath the town where I live!" Carlos retorts. "Especially not when it's looking like the vague-yet-menacing government agency is indirectly responsible for most of my current problems!"

"You're with … _that_ agency?" Steve exclaims, apparently now about to follow Kevin into full fanboy-mode, albeit for different reasons.

Tomas beams, despite everything. "Yep."

"So do you know all their secrets?"

"Goodness, no. But I do know some of them."

"…Could you tell me?"

Tomas' expression is suddenly all eyebrows. "Well, yes, Mr Carlsberg, I _could_. But then, if you will forgive the very obvious line, I would have to kill you. Or… find another way to convince you to stay quiet, at least…"

Steve looks stunned. "…You know who I am?"

"Oh yes. The agency has _quite_ a file on you. Although, I must say, your surveillance photos do _not_ do you justice."

"Stop hitting on my boyfriend's brother-in-law!" Carlos interjects.

Tomas claps a hand to his chest, giving him an unconvincing faux-innocent look. "Would I do that?"

"Yes, Tomas, you would. And you are. And he's married. And… stop!"

" _Boys_ ," Atilio interjects again. "Come on, now. This really isn't the time."

Tomas flashes Steve one more smile and then desists, for the moment at least. Carlos looks down for a second, and then back up, trying very hard to meet Cecil's eyes. Even Kevin seems to have – mostly – recovered now, and their matching expressions are full of confusion. And concern.

"I didn't tell you because I couldn't," Carlos insists. "And because Tomas and I… we parted on bad terms. And by the time I realised I _should_ tell you… it was too late. It was too late and I didn't know how to do it. And… and he works for the vague-yet-menacing government agency!"

"Are you here on official business?" Dana cuts in, in mayor-voice, and Tomas turns to her at once.

"No," he answers. "I realise you might not believe me, but I'm not. And… forgive me, Carlos seems to have skipped the introductions, but I'm guessing by the gold chain that you're Night Vale's mayor?"

"That's right," she tells him, and holds out a hand. "Dana Cardinal."

" _Delighted_ ," Tomas enthuses, now turning his most charming look on her. Dana, of course, is far too sensible to fall for it, but she still smiles politely in response.

Taking the hint, Carlos rubs a hand over his eyes and then gestures to the others. "You're right, I'm sorry, I should have introduced you. You've met Dana and you apparently know who Steve is, so… OK. Tomas, this is Earl Harlan, who is Night Valean but has been living down here for a while now. Earl… Tomas, my brother."

They shake hands. Tomas does not tone down the charm, but he does at least stay quiet this time, which is probably for the best because Earl looks close to climbing through that broken window and taking his chances with the City Hall custodians.

"And… these are my boyfriends, Cecil and Kevin."

"It's a _pleasure_ ," Tomas says, shaking hands with them in turn. "You two are… almost _exactly_ alike, aren't you? And _way_ hot." He grins at Carlos. "Kudos, little brother. I mean it. And… I bet they're totally chiral, aren't they?"

Some days you just cannot win. "Yes. Yes, Tomas, they are totally chiral. And no, you _cannot_ read the paper I wrote."

He really can't. And both Cecil and Kevin both have the good grace to blush just a little at that, on account of knowing precisely what's in said paper.

"Well, now we're all friends, can we maybe consider _not_ having this conversation next to the building that the Followers just _stole_?!" Earl exclaims, as if he's been trying to say as much for some time. Which… is understandable, really.

"Probably for the best," Kevin concedes. "We really need somewhere to lay low and sort this whole thing out. You said you have like-minded friends? The Acolytes of the Overball?"

"That's right," Earl replies.

"Do they have safehouses?"

"Yes. I can lead us to one. It's only a couple of blocks away."

"Then let's go. I think we have a lot of explaining to do."

This may be the understatement of the week. And it has some serious competition.

***

The safehouse in question is empty when they arrive. Earl has a key, and lets them all in, looking about warily as his ever-increasing group of tag-alongs all head inside.

They gather in the central room, where there are a number of chairs and couches, and then those who have been here the longest start to explain to the newcomers precisely what's going on.

It takes longer than it should, mostly because Cecil and Steve insist on regularly snarking at each other, and – though he'd deny it if challenged out loud – so do Carlos and Tomas.

When they're finally done, Carlos rubs a hand over his eyes. "Maybe we should have recorded that. To make things quicker next time."

"You think there's going to be a next time?" Cecil asks.

"Given the way our luck is playing out at the moment, Cecil, I'd be surprised if there wasn't," Carlos replies. Although surely it can't get any worse than it already has?

He doesn't say this part out loud, though. Tomas is sitting watching him with far too much interest, and he can't shake the feeling that his twin is trying to psychoanalyse him. Which is most assuredly _not_ science. Or acceptable.

"So… we're stuck down here, at least for now?" Dana says. She looks mostly calm, although there are flickers of concern in her eyes.

"I'm afraid so," Carlos answers. "And there's a very real risk that other people are going to end up the same way. That's why we need to stop the Followers before this gets any worse."

"How do I always end up getting dragged into these things?" Steve exclaims, very much directing his question at Cecil.

"It isn't my fault you were sneaking around City Hall in the middle of the night!" Cecil retorts. "What were you even _doing_ in there, anyway?"

Steve's expression becomes more guarded. "That's classified."

"Steve, you told _me_ ," Dana points out.

"You're the mayor!" Steve insists. "It's different with you."

Cecil sighs. "Well, whatever it was, you're stuck with us now."

Steve sighs too. "Looks that way." He pauses. "You're… OK, though, right?"

"Steve!"

" _Anyway_ ," Carlos cuts in, trying to keep things on track. "None of this helps with our real problem."

"Stopping the Followers of Huntokar from causing all-out war with Night Vale?" Earl says, a little flatly.

"…Well, yes, _that_ ," Carlos concedes, " _and_ …" He turns to Tomas. "…Precisely what are _you_ doing here?"

" _How_ precise an answer would you like?" Tomas asks, pleasantly. "Shall I take it to a subatomic level, or would you prefer just the larger parts?"

Carlos tries very hard not to overreact. "I want the parts that explain why you were in Night Vale, why you were in City Hall, and why you got thrown through a window!"

"I already explained that last one," Tomas points out. "The custodians weren't pleased with me, and they were riled up – most likely by the building being shrunk and teleported underground – so they overreacted. Besides, it's fine. I told you, it isn't my first defenestration. Doors are _so_ passé."

"But why were you in City Hall in the first place?" Dana asks.

"I came to check files in the records office," Tomas explains. "Most of your information isn't digitised – excellent security countermeasure, by the way – so I couldn't just hack in through my agency portal on the Dark Net." He flicks his eyes over to Steve as he says this, clearly knowing – already – that the man will be hanging on his every word. And he's right.

"What did you want to know?" Dana pushes.

Now Tomas looks at his twin, and at their father. "I was looking for these two. For my brother and my dad. I knew Dad had tracked Carlos here, and I knew that if I found one of them, I'd find both of them."

"Tomas, you could have just texted," Atilio points out.

"Well… yes," Tomas concedes, "but I didn't want you to know I was coming. Besides, I couldn't risk the urge to have a little poke about in the files. Sorry," he adds, giving Dana a look that at least _seems_ vaguely apologetic.

"You should have asked," Dana replies. "We do have a protocol for dealing with your agency, after all."

"We do?!" Steve exclaims, looking half-horrified and half-delighted.

"Of course we do," Dana says.

"Why were you looking for me?" Carlos cuts in, keeping his eyes on his twin.

"Why not?" Tomas answers. "You're my brother. And we haven't spoken in five years. And… I wanted to see how you were doing."

"You're seriously telling me that you're not here on agency business?" Carlos replies. He knows he's being hot-headed, and over-emotional, and _far_ too unguarded, but… he can't help it. He can't. Tomas brings it out in him. He always has.

"I'm not here on agency business," Tomas says. "I'm on leave."

Carlos gives him a flat look. "The kind of leave you book in advance, or the kind of leave that gets imposed on you because you 'accidentally' set a building on fire again?"

Tomas smiles. "The advance kind. Totally the advance kind."

There is just no dealing with the man.

"Well, you're stuck with us now," Carlos says. "And given that the people here apparently think I'm some sort of demon, I'd prepare yourself to be included in that."

"Sounds like fun!" Tomas replies, tone devoid of irony.

"Carlos," Kevin cuts in, in his most serious voice. He's been tellingly silent all this time, which makes the sudden interruption all the more worrying. "Can Cecil and I speak to you for a moment? In private?"

Carlos feels as though everyone is staring at him now, and he can't quite meet eyes with either of his boyfriends. "Yes," he says, nonetheless. "All right."

They step out of the central room and down a short corridor into a smaller area containing a table and chairs, but little else. Carlos walks in first, standing in the middle of the open space, not quite able to turn.

This is bad, isn't it? His heart is suddenly thrumming in his chest, and that run-for-the-hills urge has come back with a vengeance.

"Carlos?" Kevin says, softly. "You want to tell us what's going on?"

"Not really," Carlos answers, realising only after he speaks that there was an undeniable sharpness to his tone.

It certainly gets him a reaction. Kevin steps up behind him – even without being able to see the pair of them, Carlos knows without a shadow of a doubt which double it is – and seizes hold of his shoulders. The contact makes Carlos tense up even more, instinctively fearing what might follow, and he's struck by a sudden awareness of what the man behind him is capable of.

Usually, it excites him, in ways he's still learning to understand. But right now, he is suddenly scared. And that's… well.

Scary.

Oh dear.

"Don't," he whispers. "Just…"

Before he can say any more, Kevin has wrapped tightly around him from behind, and turned him so that Cecil can step in and wrap him in from the front. The juxtaposition between what's actually happening and what his stress-addled mind expected to happen makes him resist it for a moment, and then he just presses into their arms, letting them hold him.

It feels so good. So very good. Even though he knows he doesn't deserve it this time.

The two doubles finally pull back a little, though Kevin keeps hold of him from behind, and Cecil stays close in front, hands raised to cup Carlos' face in both hands.

"Carlos," Cecil says, in the same soft tone Kevin used moments earlier. "Tell us what's going on. Why did you never even mention that you have a twin?"

Instinct makes Carlos try to pull away, but Cecil just keeps those gentle hands on his face, and Kevin keeps a firm hold of his shoulders, and there simply is no way Carlos can resist the two of them, _especially_ when they're pulling the good-double-bad-double routine on him.

He relaxes as much as he can, not fighting them any longer. "Because we didn't part on good terms. And because he works for the vague-yet-menacing government agency. And I really, really don't want those guys in my life again."

"Again?" Kevin repeats, questioningly.

"…Yes," Carlos answers, very quietly. "I…"

He's just going to have to tell them. Like he should have done months ago.

"…All right. Look. Tomas and I went to the same university. Toby and Arlene know about him, though they're the only ones in the team who do, because they knew him too. We both studied science – obviously – but we moved in different circles because we're…"

"…Chiral?" Cecil says, softly, and Carlos has to look down at that.

"…Yeah," he concedes. "We worked well together, though, when we _did_ work together. Apart from the fact that that man does _not_ store his glassware in the approved fashion, which is just a _nightmare_ if I let him borrow mine. And one time he wrote an entire spreadsheet in Comic Sans because he thought it was funny."

The other two do not seem as horrified by this as they should.

"So what went wrong?" Cecil asks, as if the Comic Sans thing somehow isn't explanation enough. Which… OK, it isn't, though it should be.

"Despite it all, we ended up working together, after we graduated," Carlos goes on. "We both became junior faculty at the university, and we co-authored a number of papers."

"Hold on," Cecil says, "which university even _was_ this? I don't think you've ever said."

"The University of What-It-Is," Carlos answers.

"I… don't think I know that one," Cecil answers. "Where is it?"

"…You don't know where it is?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, we were based there. And for a while, everything was… good, I guess. And _then_ , one day – a little before the turn of the millennium, I think – a private company approached us and asked us to sign on to their research programme. They were very interested in hiring the two of us."

"What was the company called?" Kevin asks.

"They were an odd group," Carlos says. "I hadn't heard of them before. Or since, actually. They called themselves Xanatos Tech."

Kevin tenses noticeably at the name, which makes Carlos try to glance back at him. "You know of them?"

"…Strexcorp had dealings with a lot of people," Kevin answers.

Though this is obviously not the whole truth.

"So did you go to work for them?" Cecil asks, before Carlos can try to work out what Kevin isn't saying.

"No," Carlos answers. "That was when things went wrong. You see, Xanatos Tech wanted both of us. And that would have been fine, only… Tomas had another offer. Well. No. We both did."

"The vague-yet-menacing government agency?" Cecil surmises.

Carlos nods. "Yes. They approached the pair of us, the day after Xanatos Tech made their offer. They wanted to recruit us."

"But you said no?" Kevin asks.

"Merciful Einstein, yes, I said no," Carlos answers. "Those guys are _bad_ news. Do you know _how_ they approached us?"

"…They dragged you into the back of a black sedan whilst you were walking down the street?" Cecil suggests.

Carlos stares. "Yes. That. Exactly that. How did you..?"

Cecil shrugs. "Night Vale, remember?"

"Good point. Well, yes. They grabbed both of us separately, and when they pulled the dark hoods _off_ our heads, we were sitting back-to-back in a _very_ ominous room. And _that's_ when they said it was a job offer."

"Which you turned down?" Cecil says.

"On the spot, yes," Carlos answers.

"But Tomas didn't, did he?" Kevin surmises.

Carlos looks down again. "No," he says, softly. "No, he didn't. _I_ thought the whole thing was horrifying. _He_ thought it was _fun_. I begged him to reconsider. Told him those guys were dangerous. Told him we'd be better off sticking with Xanatos Tech, or even just staying with the university. But… Tomas was completely caught up in it, and he chose to join them. So not only did he ally with the people who had terrorised us like that, but as a result the deal with Xanatos Tech fell through as well. Suddenly I had no working partner and no job offer. And I… was never the same, after that."

"For what it's worth, it's better you didn't join up with them," Kevin says. "Xanatos Tech, I mean. They don't exist any more. They were… subsumed by Strexcorp at the turn of the millennium."

"Maybe so," Carlos concedes. "But back then… all I saw was my brother abandoning me. We started talking less and less. He'd disappear for months at a time, and when he resurfaced he could never talk about what he was doing, and I could never talk about it with anyone else because I wasn't allowed to, and… gradually we just fell apart. The last time we spoke, five years ago… it ended badly. And after that… after that, I didn't know what to do. How to fix things. My whole life was a mess by that point. I bounced from short-term research job to short-term research job, until…"

"…You came to Desert Bluffs," Kevin says.

"Yes," Carlos answers. "Strexcorp offered me a position, so I took it. And you know the rest. And… I'd never talked about Tomas, and the longer I didn't, the longer I _wasn't_ , and eventually I didn't know how to do it so I just avoided it altogether, and then…"

"…Then your dad came to visit," Cecil says. "But why did he never mention the fact that you have a twin?"

Carlos has to look away again. "I asked him not to, the first time I got him alone, after he arrived. I admitted I'd never told either of you. I promised that I would, and… and I was going to, but… well. Then _this_ happened."

Cecil grips his hands, pulling them in against his own chest. "Carlos. You know you can tell us anything. And you can. We love you. _All_ of you."

"Even the angsty backstory," Kevin adds, with the trace of a smile in his voice.

"Speaking of which…" Carlos starts out, glancing back at Kevin over his shoulder.

"…Not here," Kevin says, softly. "Not like this. Soon."

Before Carlos can say any more, he hears movement in the doorway, and looks over to see who it is.

It's his brother. He tenses at once, and he knows – still holding him as they are – that both Cecil and Kevin won't be able to miss the reaction.

"Look," Tomas starts out, with his most sensible expression in place, "Carlos, can we talk?"

Part of Carlos wants to say no, but then… all of this is really _because_ they don't talk, so it would be churlish of him to refuse.

He nods. "All right. But whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of my boyfriends."

They're both still standing close to him, though they step back a little so he's no longer quite so caught between them.

Tomas nods too. "I have no problem with that. I can already see what they mean to you."

Carlos can't help giving his brother a narrowed look. "How much of our conversation were you listening in on?"

"I wasn't," Tomas answers, calmly. "I could have done, but… I wasn't." He sighs. "Carlos, I know this isn't easy, but we're all stuck down here and, from what you've said, things are pretty serious."

"I _know_ that," Carlos replies. "Believe me, I know."

"So… can we just agree to work together on this? Once it's over, if you want to not talk for another five years, then that's OK, but… for now, we need to be united."

Carlos looks down. His twin does have a point, after all. A very good point.

That's the hardest part.

"All right," he agrees. "All right. Just… try not to be overly weird."

Tomas beams. "No promises!" he says, and pats his brother on the arm. "Now come along. I think Earl is eager to get moving again."

Sometimes it's better to stay focused. Save the world first. Sort out the rest later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you who've read either of my other big WTNV fics (The Eye & The Aperture or Sand & Mirrors) will recognise dear Tomas. He first appeared as Carlos' double in E&A, and then I re-tooled him as his twin in Sand & Mirrors. I haven't written him since then, so it was pure joy to bring him back after all this time, and to find him a place in Chiralityverse. Plus I got to throw him through a window, which he enjoyed more than he should!
> 
> And of _course_ I had to bring Steve in as well. It wouldn't be right without Steve!
> 
> Also, for those keeping count, this chapter marks the first time since the totally non-canon (shush!) E&A Christmas Fic that I have had my original 'core five' (Carlos, Cecil, Kevin, Tomas and Steve) all together. Happy days!
> 
> Catch you on the flipside, people. Until next time!
> 
> Coming Up Next in Chiralityverse: Word travels faster than you think in Nebolgorod, and the Acolytes of the Overball are stunned by what they're hearing. Other people, however, are less pleased.


	6. Mixer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervous wave* So. Uhm. Hey, everyone. I'm back!
> 
> This story has been on hiatus a lot longer than I first planned. I paused it at the end of last year, in order to give myself a chance to finish the Chiralityverse prequel - [A Song of Blood and Sunlight](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4055455/chapters/9125632) \- but then things went somewhat awry. I have, as you will know if you subscribe to my author feed, been co-writing a rather long Star Wars fic with my other half, but my intention was always to write it side-by-side with this fic. There's a lot of pauses when you co-write (or, there are when we do - I'm writing this very paragraph in one!) and having something else to work on in between is the best way to use the time.
> 
> That wasn't the problem. The problem was the massive case of writers' block I hit with _this_ fic when I tried to go back to it. I've known all along where it is headed - where it is _still_ headed - but I realised when I came back to it that I didn't quite know how to get there. And once I worked it out, the cycle of self-doubt had kicked in, and pulling myself back out of that particular pit has taken longer than planned.
> 
> But! We need no sad violins here! I am back, this story is back, and - though updates will likely remain slow whilst I get it sorted out - it is going again. For those of you who are still here, and those who have returned, thank you. Thank you for reading. Thank you for your support. Thank you for your kudos and especially for your comments. I may be slow at replying to them - I am actually scared of humans. True story! - but they mean the world to me. :-)
> 
> And now, I shall get to the point! So, allow me to finally return you here: to a group, in a safehouse, in a town, and to another fledgling revolution that was never supposed to happen...

**Mixer**

_A hit that causes the pins to bounce around or 'mix'; a more chaotic shot._

***

Tomas is right about Earl being eager to head off. By the time they head back to that central room, everyone else is already making preparations to go.

"I've been thinking," Earl says, without preamble. "Maybe we're going about this the wrong way. We need to get to the Cathedral of Huntokar, but we've been trying to do it all in secret. Maybe we need to be more open."

"Won't that get us killed?" Dana replies, looking worried. "If these Followers are as strong as you say, surely they'll do anything to stop us?"

Earl looks pained. "Yes. They will. But… we have something they don't."

His eyes go to Carlos.

The scientist sighs a little. "The Demon of the Overworld, apparently," he says. He tries to keep his tone dry, and not to let the worry sink in, but it isn't easy.

Earl nods. "Yes. And not just you. We also have the one who sent the Overball itself. _And_ his double. And I can't help thinking, if we let word about this get out…"

"…We'll all be horribly killed?" Steve cuts in.

Cecil shoots him a look but doesn't actually say anything. Which… is telling.

"I don't think they'll kill us," Earl replies. "I mean… don't anybody quote me on that… but I don't think they will."

"There are worse things than dying," Kevin points out, cheerily.

"…I could go off you," Steve tells him.

"Oh, no, you couldn't," is Kevin's easy reply. "I'm too loveable."

Although Carlos can't help thinking – again – that there's something Kevin isn't saying. Perhaps a lot of somethings.

But he can't dwell on that now.

"What exactly are you planning?" Cecil says to Earl, in his most sensible voice.

"There's another safehouse not far from here," Earl starts out. "I didn't take us there in the first place because _that_ one is nearly always occupied, and I figured we needed to talk in peace." His eyes flick rather tellingly to Tomas at this, though he doesn't say any more about it out loud. "That safehouse is – on paper – a shipping business. It means people can come and go from the building, which is really more of a warehouse than anything else – at all times, without it seeming suspicious. If we go there, the chances are high more than a few Acolytes will be around. And… others will come, when word gets out."

"So… you want to hold a rally?" Dana asks.

"Not a rally," Earl replies. "Not… exactly. But… I would like more of our people to know what's going on."

"If we do this, _other_ people are going to notice," Kevin points out, softly. "Even if we keep it as quiet as possible – and I don't think you're suggesting anything that subtle – there's only so long you can get away with _dissident_ activities before someone catches on."

Carlos' eyes flick over to Kevin, concerned again. He knows there's a lot the other man isn't saying; knows something about all this is affecting him, and he wishes he knew why. Though, at the same time… he's almost scared to ask.

"' _Dissident_ '?" Earl repeats. "We're not dissidents. We're just one half of this whole… situation."

"To you, you are," Kevin replies. "But to the other half – who I remind you are the ones in charge right now – you're dissidents. What kind of action have they taken against you? You haven't told us that yet, not really."

The room goes very quiet. "…There have been a few disappearances," Earl admits. "Not many, but enough that we couldn't deny they were going on. The Followers never talk about it, never say anything, but…"

"…You know they're responsible," Kevin concludes, quietly. His dark eyes are resonant with history, now, and Carlos looks over to Cecil, who meets his eyes and clearly understands.

"Of course they're responsible," Tomas cuts in, though from his tone he's actually trying to defuse the situation – for once.

"Which is why we have to take the fight to them," Steve adds, with his most serious expression. "Earl's right."

"But _carefully_ ," Dana insists. "I've been part of two revolutions this year. I would very much prefer it if the third _didn't_ all end in fighting."

"As would I," Earl answers. "But… we do still need to involve more people in this. Others among the Acolytes need to know what's going on."

It does still seem to be the best course of action, despite certain reservations. And so they all set off, with Earl in the lead, trying to look sensible and normal and Nebolgorodian and _not_ like… what did Kevin call them?

_Dissidents?_

The trip itself is surprisingly unnerving, although maybe that's because Carlos is worrying about what will happen when they get to this safehouse that Earl told them about. Partly this is because he doesn't yet know what the Followers might do if they find them, and partly…

…partly it's because of the whole _Demon of the Overworld_ thing. Which he is still not exactly comfortable with. _Especially_ now he has Tomas to contend with as well.

For now, at least, luck seems to be on their side, and they make it to their destination – which is indeed a fairly sizeable warehouse – without incident. Earl knocks on the door, and a tiny slat opens up, a pair of eyes staring out at them.

"Password?"

" _Strike_."

The slat closes, and – seconds later – the door opens, a young man standing behind it. He lets them in and shuts the door again, before looking from Earl to the little crowd at his back, and then he sees Carlos and Tomas and his eyes go _wide_.

"…Is..?" he starts out.

Earl puts a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, Anton," he says, softly. "How many of the others are here?"

"Uh… Maria and Ilari are through in the main warehouse," Anton replies. "I think Nadya is in the upstairs quarters. But that's it."

Earl nods. "All right. Let's get them together, so I can tell you what's going on. And then… we need to get more people here. We need them to _see_."

"…The Demon of the Overworld," Anton breathes, still staring at Carlos. "And…"

"And his twin," Tomas says, with a grin and a little wave.

"And that's not the half of it," Earl adds, looking at Cecil and Kevin. "That's not the half of it."

***

It's a little scary how quickly the Acolytes of the Overball gather. Earl sends Anton, Nadya, Maria and Ilari out, and before long they start coming back, with others in tow.

A _lot_ of others. They just keep pouring into the central chamber of the warehouse, talking softly amongst themselves and staring over at the contingent from Night Vale with wide eyes.

"I'm not enjoying this," Carlos mutters.

"It's going to be fine," Tomas insists, much more easily. He's currently sitting cross-legged on the edge of a large packing crate, looking far too calm.

"You know, you'd fit in well in Desert Bluffs," Kevin tells him, with just the slightest edge of snark that suggests he is actually trying to defend Carlos.

"Oh, I fit in well everywhere I go," Tomas answers, unfazed. "It's certainly helpful, given my job."

"Are you _sure_ you can't tell us about it?" Steve asks.

Tomas smiles. He _would_ fit in well in Desert Bluffs, which – given that Carlos fits in well in Night Vale – seems somehow inevitable. And sort of satisfying, considering the chirality of it all, and…

OK, stop now.

"I could tell you about it, yes," Tomas answers. "But, as previously discussed, then I'd have to kill you."

"Couldn't you just have him re-educated?" Cecil tries, unable to keep the vaguely hopeful air from his tone.

Steve scowls. Carlos starts slowly counting to ten in his head. But all Tomas does is shrug and say, "Well, yes, obviously. But 'and then I'd have to kill you' is a _much_ better line, right?"

"There is something very wrong with you," Carlos mutters.

Dana leans in closer to Atilio. "Are they like this all the time?"

Atilio gives a wry smile. "Yes. All the time."

It isn't much longer before the whole room is full of people, all of them talking quietly amongst themselves, trying to get a better look at those they've come to see. Eventually, with a nervous flicker in his eyes – there are a _lot_ of people here – Earl climbs up onto another of the crates so he can see everyone.

Just before he does, Carlos hears Kevin mutter something under his breath, something like "too _many_ of them…" but, before he can ask what's wrong, Earl has started to speak.

"Thank you all for coming. I realise today's news is unexpected, but I think it's better you hear it in person. Better you _see_ it in person. Ever since the coming of the Overball, those of us who call ourselves Acolytes have lived under the thumb of the Followers of Huntokar. We know they are acting against us. We know they do not hold with our truths. We also know they are starting to steal buildings from the Overworld, an act that _will_ lead us into all-out war with the Overworlders. A war we cannot win."

"But… something has happened that changes everything. Something that – we hope – will make the Followers think twice about what they're doing. We have, here, among us, the Demon of the Overworld himself. He did not come to Nebologorod to hurt us. He came to explore. And, now, he comes to help. And… he is not alone. There are two of him. Two Demons of the Overworld, to help us stand against Huntokar. And they, in turn, come as Acolytes of the one who sent the Overball. The one who showed the people of Nebolgorod that there is something beyond this something. And… there are two of _him_ as well."

Ripples of surprise run through the crowd: ripples that turn into gasps as – at Earl's urging – Carlos, Tomas, Cecil and Kevin climb up where everyone can see them. Carlos rather wants to hide behind someone, but given that Tomas is his only choice right now, he opts just to bear it.

"We want to help you," Cecil now says. "None of us wanted this schism to cut through your society. I never wanted to hurt anyone with the Overball, and Carlos certainly never wanted to hurt anyone when he came down here. We have to stop the Followers from stealing buildings, and we have to prove to them that they don't need to do it."

"And we can," Kevin adds. "They may have a god on their side, but we have something better: the knowledge that we're fighting for what's right. That…"

All of a sudden, the room goes dark, sending a wave of frightened whispers running through the crowd. Seconds later, several of the doors at the back of the warehouse open all at once, sending shafts of light spilling inwards: each with a figure standing in the middle of it.

And each of the figures is holding a pair of knives.

Carlos feels his blood go cold. Tomas immediately steps in front of him, and it takes Carlos a moment to realise that his twin is trying to protect him. Off to the side, he can see both Steve and Dana stepping in front of Atilio – and he's grateful for that – and Kevin turning to whisper something to Cecil.

Which… gets him a firm shake of the head in return. Kevin slips down from the crate, as Cecil obviously moves to try to stop him. But there's no stopping Kevin when he's determined to do something.

"Acolytes of the Overball," comes a heavily-amplified voice from the back of the warehouse. "In the name of Huntokar, the Mighty, the Benevolent, you will all stand down. Those who do not resist will not be harmed. Those who _do_ resist…"

"You will not touch them," interrupts the voice of the man moving through the crowd, in the direction of the intruders. It's Kevin, walking with slow, certain steps; the swathe of people parting to let him through. "You will not touch any of them. You, and your _god_."

"You have no business here, _Upperworlder_ ," says the speaker – the obvious leader of the six men each standing in one of the open doorways. They do certainly have a flair for the dramatic, each one dressed in red and purple, with the emblem of the Followers emblazoned across their chests. "You and the other intruders will stand down and surrender."

"No," Kevin says, softly, in that tone which sets alarm bells ringing in Carlos' head. And… also makes him think distracting things that are not helpful right now. "No, we won't. You will leave us be, and in return, _I_ will let _you_ go."

"You're just one man," the leader sneers.

"Actually, I'm two," Kevin replies, easily. "But, luckily for you, you only have to deal with one of us. Unluckily for you, that one is me."

He draws his knife with a low, ominous _shiiiiiiik_ , and Carlos feels his stomach lurch. Surely Kevin isn't going to take them all on?

…He is, isn't he?

"Stand down," the leader insists, again.

"Everyone," Kevin calls out, louder now. " _Run_."

Which is when all hell breaks loose. The six Followers charge at Kevin, who launches at them with all the fire and fury of a man who has been waiting for _targets_ for too long. It might have been several months since the Battle of Desert Bluffs, but he still moves with ease and certainty, born of a near-lifetime of practice.

The Acolytes start to rush back from the main room, Earl trying to guide them all through the rear doors which – surprisingly – aren't being blocked by any of the Followers. Carlos is about to jump down to join them, but Tomas moves first… and in the wrong direction.

All Carlos can do now is watch in horror as his twin advances on the unfolding battle, where Kevin is – quite happily, it seems – taking on the six Followers without breaking a sweat. Still pacing closer, Tomas reaches under his labcoat, producing two short grey cylinders and then snapping them out at his sides in effective – if over-dramatic – unison.

Carlos isn't sure whether to be relieved or even more concerned, given that the objects in question are a pair of extendable nightsticks, and given that – weapons bared – Tomas then immediately charges into the fray.

"OK, didn't expect that," Cecil mutters, having hurried over to Carlos.

"…Wish I could say the same," Carlos replies. "He really _would_ fit in well in Desert Bluffs…"

And now all the two of them can do is stare, as Kevin and Tomas take on the Followers. Their fighting styles are very different – Kevin's is mostly quick and efficient whereas Tomas' is more showy and dramatic – but they complement each other well. The key variation, though, comes in the endgame of it all, because Tomas is fighting to incapacitate, and Kevin… isn't.

Carlos is not sure what it says about he himself that this is not so alarming as it once was.

As the last of their attackers fall, Kevin and Tomas advance on the only one who is both alive and conscious. "Run," Kevin tells the man, softly. "Run, and tell your leaders we're coming for them."

Looking somewhat horrified, the man in question scrambles up and races out the door like his life depends on it. Which… it probably does.

When the man is gone, Kevin re-sheathes his knife. "Well," he says, "that was bracing. And you," and now he turns to Tomas, "you're pretty good at this."

Tomas grins, snapping his nightsticks into their compact form by pushing them in against his hips, before slipping them back under his labcoat. "I've had some practice."

"Evidently," Kevin replies, and then headtilts. "Now, you, when are you going to tell your brother the truth? Well, all of us, technically, but Carlos most of all."

"The truth?" Tomas repeats, very levelly.

Kevin folds his arms. The fact that he is now covered in more than a little blood only amplifies the effect. "The truth," he repeats. "I was a company man for two decades, Tomas. I know another one when I see him."

Tomas shrugs. "I already told you about the agency I work for. Well, OK, Carlos did, but the point is that you know."

"Yes. But that isn't what I mean, and you know it."

And now, Tomas seems a little hesitant, glancing back at his twin before looking at Kevin again. "You're pretty good at this," he says, the echo obviously deliberate.

Kevin shrugs. "I've had some practice."

***

Before the Followers can send reinforcements, Earl insists on the Acolytes dispersing.

"Tell people what you saw," he says to them, as they do. "Tell them who you met. Tell them what you heard. We may not be able to do this with force, but we can do it with whispers."

Carlos is still not sold on the plan, but it seems safer than gathering too many targets together at once. And besides, he has a bigger problem to worry about right now.

Namely… what is it that Tomas isn't telling him?

He's used to his brother keeping secrets. If nothing else, it's part of the other man's job. But if Kevin has picked up on something, it must be relevant.

And that isn't a good thought.

They can't stay where they are, and they can't risk going back to the previous safehouse – given that the Followers might well be watching – so they head deeper into the warehouse district, and before long they're holed up in the most distant corner of one that doesn't seem to have any workers in it right now.

Only when they are does anyone speak.

"…That did not go well," Earl manages. He's turned very pale.

"It could have gone worse," Tomas points out, with a little shrug.

"Not much!" Kevin exclaims, and his tone instantly has Carlos worried. "Seriously, you people are _terrible_ at revolutions."

"We're getting better, though," Cecil insists.

"Not much!" Kevin says, again. There's an edge to his voice that sounds almost like anger, but, if you know him well enough, is actually closer to fear. "I told you gathering so many people together in the same place was a bad idea. It could have ended up with half of them dead!"

"That level of violence is… unusual for the Followers," Earl replies, clearly trying to stand his ground. "They'll arrest people, sure, but coming at a crowd with _knives_..?"

Kevin stops. "That hasn't happened before?"

Earl shakes his head. "No."

"Oh." A beat. "It was pretty standard in Desert Bluffs."

"So I gather," Earl replies, dryly, giving Kevin an odd look – like he doesn't quite approve, but is also glad half of them aren't dead. "Thank you for… you know. Before. You too, Tomas."

"And that's another thing," Kevin carries on, now turning to Tomas. "I think you owe your brother an explanation."

Tomas has the good grace to look a teeny bit sheepish, though he doesn't rush to be forthcoming about the whole situation either. "I already told you everything," he replies, easily.

Carlos is about to cut in and say something – precisely what, he isn't sure – but his father beats him to it. "Tomas," Atilio says, in what can only be described as Dad Voice. "Out with it."

For a moment, no one speaks. And then, Tomas sighs. "Fine. But I want it on record that you made me tell you. And that I advised against it. I… didn't come to Night Vale because I'm on leave."

Cecil looks horrified. Steve looks suddenly hopeful. Carlos… just looks resigned. "Now there's the non-surprise of the year," he says. "What was the real reason?"

"I… OK, look, I'm going to have to tell you some things," Tomas says. "And they're things that you're not allowed to know – not even you, Mayor Cardinal – so the fact that I _am_ telling you is dangerous, and forbidden. And…" A little sigh. "Sometime back in the Sixties, when the vague-yet-menacing government agency was going through one of its many expansions, one of our agents was tasked with finding a new location for our primary archives. The world was getting smaller – and not just because of that incident with the shrink ray – and they felt that it was important to secure their information and records where no one outside of the agency could get to them."

"Oh, oh, is this when they built the vault at Area 51?" Steve interjects, a little excitedly. Cecil shoots a look at him, but his brother-in-law remains unfazed, staring hopefully at Tomas.

Tomas shakes his head. "No, that was a different thing," he says, with a grin. "This was way cooler. They had a young man working for them, a guy called Alex… something. Alex was a scientist, and an archivist, and also apparently a damn good chess player, and… OK, so the point is that he was part of the team who first discovered the existence of _this_ city. Nebolgorod."

"Wait, the agency knew about it in the Sixties?" Dana says, surprised.

"Yep," Tomas answers. "And this archivist-scientist, Alex, he created a device that would allow him to shrink the archive dossiers to miniature size, and teleport them underground. He set up a series of hidden repositories, dotted among the buildings of Nebolgorod – secured so that the locals would pay them no mind – where he could store the agency's records. Brilliant, brilliant man. Apparently, he used to come down here all the time – though he's the only one who ever did – and, thanks to him, the agency had a one-hundred-percent success rate at keeping their files secure. Only…"

"…Something went wrong," Carlos surmises. Right now, he's the only one who seems able to speak: everyone else having been stunned into silence by what Tomas has just told them, and the obvious repercussions.

"Oh boy, did it ever," Tomas says, with a nod. "So, sometime in the early Eighties, Alex the Archivist had something of a falling-out with his bosses in the agency. Got himself forcibly retired. I don't know the details – I promise you – but I do know that, after Alex disappeared, it turned out that his archiving technology had been sabotaged. All records of where the repositories in Nebolgorod were had been irretrievably wiped, and the teleportation portal was permanently disabled."

"So… what you're saying…" Carlos starts out, as it all falls horribly into place in his head, "is that the vague-yet-menacing government agency _lost_ their hyper-secure archives down here in Nebologorod, and eventually they realised that this _just wouldn't do_ , so… what? They found a way to start stealing the buildings at random?"

Despite it all, Tomas grins. "Yep," he answers, wryly. "It took their other scientists _years_ to make sense of Alex's technology. Eventually, they managed to build a device that could lock onto buildings down here and teleport them to the surface. But they can't make them bigger, and they can't put them back, and they have no idea _which_ of the buildings in Nebolgorod they actually _need_. So…"

"…They steal them at random," Cecil interjects, softly, a look of alarm in his eyes. "They steal them at random, and when they're wrong they put them in crates, and store them…"

"…In a warehouse way out in the desert, yes," Tomas says, looking surprised. "How did you know?"

"Long story," Cecil answers, though Carlos knows it's connected to what he told them the previous day, about the stories that sometimes appear in his head when he's broadcasting. The stories… about _them_.

"All of this is the vague-yet-menacing government agency's fault," Carlos says, softly. "They're stealing the buildings, so the Nebolgorodians are retaliating. And _you_ …"

He can't quite look his brother in the eyes, and the distance between them suddenly hurts.

"They sent me here to find out what Night Vale knows about Nebolgorod," Tomas replies, and he seems a little guilty now. "My orders were to search the records – hence why I was in City Hall – and then…"

He trails off for a moment.

"They sent you here to talk to Carlos," Kevin cuts in. His voice is soft, but there's no threat in it.

Tomas nods. "They did. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Carlos repeats. " _Sorry_?! Your employers – the same people who _abducted_ me all those years ago – sent you here to spy on your own brother and you're _sorry_?!"

"Yes," Tomas replies, and the scary part is that he sounds nothing but honest. "They just wanted to know what you knew. In case you saw anything that might have helped."

"Well, I didn't remember much on account of the part where I was trying not to _die_ at the time!"

"I realise that," Tomas insists. There's a tone in his voice that Carlos hasn't heard in a very long time, and it hurts, in a strange way that he isn't prepared for. "And then all of _this_ happened, and I didn't _want_ to tell you the truth. And yes, partly it's because I'm not actually allowed to, but mostly… mostly I didn't want you to think badly of me."

"You… I…" Carlos' mind sort of hits a wall at this. "You didn't…"

"I didn't want you to think badly of me," Tomas repeats, softly. "Surely you know what it's like to be caught between two points of loyalty, to know that you'll never quite find a solution..?"

Suddenly, all Carlos can think of is the days when Strexcorp was occupying Night Vale. The days when, even if he didn't fully understand it, he was caught between Cecil and Kevin. He certainly didn't think he'd find a solution then… but he did. Or, they did.

And what a solution it was.

"You two need to work this out," Dana cuts in, softly. Her eyes are warm as she looks over at them, a faint smile on her face. "I know how hard it can be sometimes. I have a brother of my own, and we don't always agree. But… I would be lost without him. And I think both of you have been more than a little lost without the other, and for too long."

Everything goes silent for a moment, all eyes on the two scientists.

And then, Carlos holds out a hand. Tomas stares at him in surprise, but reaches to take it, and they quickly pull each other into a hug, and… even as he's doing it, Carlos doesn't quite expect it to feel good. OK, yes, but not _good_.

But it does.

"Now what?" Carlos asks, as they step back.

"We have to keep going," Earl insists, though it's obvious from the waver in his voice that he's deeply shaken by what happened in the warehouse. "We have to get to the Cathedral of Huntokar and confront the Followers. Show them _you_. All four of you. We have to make them see sense before this gets any worse."

"And what if they won't listen?" Steve says. "What if these people don't _want_ to see sense? What if they really _are_ led by an actual god? What then?"

"The chances of Huntokar being a _real_ deity are slim," Kevin answers. "I told you, if he's _not_ just some guy in a fancy costume, he'll be a demon at best, and… _why didn't I think of that_?!"

Everyone looks at him. "Think of what?" Cecil asks.

"Huntokar!" Kevin says. "If Huntokar _is_ a demon, there will be records of him. Even really obscure demons show up in the Planar Lexicon, and…"

"…I'm sorry, the Planar _what_?" Earl interrupts.

"The Planar Lexicon," Kevin repeats, easily. "It's the who's-who of demons. Great big book. Fascinating reading, actually, though usually we stick with the abridged version because it's easier, and also you're less likely to go insane because it doesn't include the restricted chapters, and…"

"…Get to the point, Kevin," Earl insists, which makes Kevin full on _beam_ at him. And that, of course, is infinitely more worrying than a narrowed look or a scowl.

" _Well_ ," Kevin says, "my _point_ is this: if Huntokar _is_ a demon, he will be mentioned in the Planar Lexicon, and that might well give us an edge in facing him."

"But we don't _have_ a Planar Lexicon," Cecil points out. "We're stuck down here."

" _We_ don't," Kevin replies, smiling. "But… I know someone who does."


	7. Ride The Lightning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, dear readers! I'm back!
> 
> I bring you a new chapter today, and it's one I'm super-psyched to share with you. It contains a sequence I've been waiting _ages_ to write, and it was so much fun to do. I hope you enjoy it!

**Ride The Lightning**

_The act of a bowler throwing the ball close to the gutter in order to hit one or more pins on the edge; a dangerous move with a potentially high payoff._

***

In the wake of Kevin's declaration, silence descends. But Carlos understands, and he's sure most of the others do too. "You mean Naomi Hartley," he says.

"Yep," Kevin answers. "When you need advice on demons… ask one."

"That's a little harsh," Atilio remarks.

"Not at all!" Kevin says. "I adore the woman. But she is _actually_ a demon… OK, a half-demon."

And this time, all Atilio can do is stare. Kevin, meanwhile, sticks his hand in his pocket and pulls out his phone, and… "Darn. Flat battery. Would it _kill_ Nebolgorod to put in a few compatible power sockets..?"

"You can use mine," Dana says. "My phone never runs out of power."

"What, never?" Carlos asks, surprised.

Dana shakes her head. "No. Ever since I got back from my time in the Otherworld Desert. No matter how much I use it, it always has ninety-seven percent battery. Neat, huh?"

And, calmly, she pulls out her phone and hands it to Kevin.

"Very!" he agrees. "And thanks. Now, hold on one sec…"

He dials quickly, and puts the phone on speaker so they can all listen, setting it on a packing case in the centre of the group. It rings a few times, and then there's a click. "Naomi Hartley," comes the voice from the other end.

"Naomi, it's Kevin," he answers, brightening even more.

"Oh hey, you, is everything OK? This is Mayor Cardinal's number… did you lose your phone?"

"Nope, I'm just out of charge. I borrowed Dana's, 'cause apparently hers never runs out, and…"

"…OK, what did you do this time?" Naomi asks, her voice a mixture of amusement and concern. "Because you clearly did something!"

"This was _totally_ not my fault in any way," Kevin replies, quickly, and – for once – his insistence of innocence is actually true. "But… OK, very long story short… we ended up in Nebolgorod, the miniature city underneath Night Vale."

Naomi is silent for a moment, and Carlos guesses she's probably trying to work out which question to ask first. "…'We' being..?"

"Cecil and Carlos, and me, and Carlos' dad, and later on also Steve Carlsberg and Mayor Cardinal – obviously, hence the phone – and Cecil's old friend Earl Harlan is here too – even longer story – and…"

"…How did you even _get_ down there? Isn't it _miniature_? And… by Ozhen'ipleth, are you _tiny_ right now?"

From the sound of it, Naomi is trying not to laugh.

"Yes, Naomi, I am tiny right now!" Kevin replies. "All of us are tiny! Now… please hold the admittedly hard-to-resist mockery for the moment. We need your help."

"OK. OK. This is my serious face," Naomi insists, though the effect is lost somewhat by the fact that they can't actually see it. Also she keeps having to suppress a laugh. "Right. Go on."

"So, even longer story short, the people down here worship a being called Huntokar. Now, I'm not certain, but I get the feeling this Huntokar is a demon. Could you have a look through your copy of the Planar Lexicon and see if I'm right?"

"Huntokar?" Naomi repeats. "Doesn't ring any bells. But, sure, I'll check for you. Let me put you on speaker whilst I get my copy of the Lexicon from the bookshelf…"

"Be careful," Cecil says. "Books are dangerous."

"Half-demon, remember?" Naomi answers, easily. "Now, where did I put you..?"

There's a series of sounds from the other end of the line; sounds which seem thoroughly ominous and not at all normal for someone searching for a book on a shelf. Well. Except maybe in Desert Bluffs and Night Vale, of course.

At the end of it all, there's a heavy thud. "Got it," comes Naomi's voice again. "Now… Huntokar, did you say?"

"Yes," Kevin replies.

"Any idea which plane?"

"No. But… if I had to put money on it, one of the top two."

"Kevin, that isn't good."

"I know. Believe me, I know."

The ominous edge to Kevin's tone has everyone's attention, and the room is suddenly very quiet as they wait for Naomi to speak again.

"Give me a few minutes, this book is immense," she says, eventually, obviously aware of the weight of the silence. "It's completely unabridged, and it used to belong to my father, so it has sections in that even the usual unabridged copies don't have…"

Carlos isn't surprised by this, though he's more than smart enough not to question what's _in_ those particular sections. But… he can imagine.

There's a moment's pause, punctuated only by the sounds of Naomi turning the pages of the Lexicon. She murmurs to herself occasionally – and not always in English – and then, from out of nowhere, she says, "Oh. Kevin. That reminds me…" Precisely what has reminded her, she doesn't elaborate on. "Some weird things have been happening in the Bluffs, the last few days. I was going to call you about it, actually. I figured you ought to know."

"What kind of things?" Kevin asks. His voice is level as he speaks, but Carlos can see the flicker in the man's eyes. The alarm.

"Vandalism, for the most part," Naomi answers, still flicking pages. "Graffiti has been scrawled onto a number of major landmarks in the city, including Strexcorp HQ and the centre of what used to be the Bloodstone Plaza."

The memories hit hard, and Carlos feels himself go cold. Perhaps in understanding, Cecil puts a hand on his arm and steps in closer, and both of them watch Kevin carefully.

"Messages?" Kevin pushes.

"Yes," Naomi says. "Messages written in blood. They all say one of two things. ' _Behold the beautiful mountain_ ' or ' _think deeply about meadows_ '."

"That's not good," is Kevin's reply, and it's obvious he's thrown by it. "I realise the second one is an old Strexcorp slogan, but the first… that one's new. You think it could be something to do with the Otherworld Desert?"

"Perhaps," Naomi answers. "Though there aren't many who have seen it."

"…You know mountains aren't real, right?" Cecil interjects softly.

"Sweetie, you've been up one, remember?" Carlos replies.

"Well, yes, but it wasn't _real_."

Night Vale's little foibles can be trying at times. Even if they are also undeniably endearing in a weird sort of way.

"I've got people looking into it all," Naomi goes on, managing her pulling-the-conversation-back-on-track voice even over the phone. "But when you get home from your latest adventure, we should meet up and talk about it. You might well spot something the rest of my people have missed."

"I'd be happy to help, you know that," Kevin replies, though it's obvious he's affected by what he's heard. "Any luck with the Lexicon?"

"Still working my way through," Naomi says. "Have to be careful. Some of these pages can drive you insane if you don't take precautions."

"Is anyone else really worried by this conversation?" Earl interjects, and the alarm in his voice is obvious.

Perhaps tellingly, none of them seem as affected. Even Atilio looks less fazed than Carlos might have thought, though he isn't sure if this constitutes a good thing or a bad thing.

"…Oh," Naomi says, suddenly. "I think I found it. Huntokar."

"That's the one!" Kevin replies, brighter again. "What does it say?"

"Not a great deal. Looks like the information on this guy is sketchy at best. But he's definitely First Infernal Plane, which means you are going to have to be really, _really_ careful."

"Tell me about it," says Kevin, _very_ wryly. And then… "Is there an invocation ritual?"

"I knew it," Naomi replies, sounding worried. "I _knew_ it. You're planning to _summon_ this guy!"

Carlos has been worrying the same thing, and he doubts he's the only one.

"…Yes," Kevin admits. "Yes, I am."

"He's First Infernal Plane!" Naomi repeats.

"You don't think I can do it?"

"Kevin, I don't think _I_ could do it. And I _am_ from that plane. Or, sort of. Part of me is."

"Naomi… don't sell yourself short. You and your coven have summoned H'ygragagogoth on many occasions."

"True. But there are several of us. I couldn't do it on my own."

"Well… I'm not going to attempt this on my own, either," Kevin declares.

Everyone goes very still.

"You can't just give someone a crash-course in summoning," Naomi points out. "Not if you're going to invoke a being from the First Infernal Plane. You need someone with experience. And… someone with a high level of planar power, which you have, but…"

And then she stops dead, obviously reaching the same realisation that most of the room has just arrived at: a realisation that makes Kevin smile, and makes Cecil gasp in alarm.

"…Oh yes," Kevin says, brightly. "Naomi, I believe you just described my dear double."

"Cecil has summoning experience?"

"Yep. In his wild youth!" Suddenly, Kevin looks delighted.

Cecil, on the other hand, takes a step back in alarm. "You can't be serious. I summoned little imp-things! Not… not _highborn demons_!"

"Oh, Cecil, it's basically the same, only with a far higher risk of being devoured or rendered terminally insane by what you summon," Kevin reasons. "And… I know we could do this. I know we could. We're _doubles_."

"Kevin does have a point," Naomi says, and she sounds like she's coming round to the idea. "His own planar power is impressive, and it stands to reason that yours would be the same, Cecil. You just don't know it yet."

"And we need to talk to Huntokar," Kevin adds. "We need to find out what's really going on here. This will help."

He paces over to Cecil, reaching out to take his double's hands. "We can do this," he says, again. "We can. You and me. Invoking a being from the _First Infernal Plane_. Do you even know how amazing it will feel?"

"Assuming we don't die horribly?"

"Yes, assuming we don't die horribly."

"You know you're not selling this well?" Cecil points out.

"I'm selling it just fine." A beat. Suddenly, Kevin's dark eyes are wide and imploring. "Please?"

"Kevin, that look doesn't work on me," Cecil insists, and it doesn't take someone who knows him as well as Carlos does to tell that this isn't true at all.

"Sure it does," Kevin replies, brightly. "So what do you say?"

"Naomi, is this going to end in my horrible death?" Cecil asks.

" _Probably_ not," is her answer.

" _How_ probably?"

Kevin puts both hands on Cecil's shoulders. " _Please_ , Cecil…"

"…Fine. OK. Yes. But if we both die horribly, I want you to remember that this was your idea."

"Hooray!" Kevin exclaims. "OK, Naomi, can you tell me how the ritual goes?"

"I can tell you, but it's a tricky one," she answers. "There's a long invocation, and you're going to have to draw out a full infinity circle to channel the energy correctly. And you _have_ to do the invocation in a suitable language. It ought to be Dzy-an-thyl, but I'm guessing Cecil doesn't speak it."

"I'm not even sure I can spell it!" Cecil exclaims. "But… I _do_ know Unmodified Sumerian. Will that work?"

"Yeah, I think it would," Naomi replies. "I mean, if this guy's from the First, he'll probably be irritated by being summoned at _all_. And whilst doing the invocation in a modern language would be asking for it, anything suitably old should be placatory enough. Unless nothing would be, in which case the point is moot anyway."

"You're not making me feel any better," Cecil points out.

"Oh, Cecil, it will be fine!" Kevin insists. He looks positively delighted now, although Carlos can't quite enjoy it as much as usual on account of all the worry.

"You're going to need to write this invocation down," Naomi adds. "Like I said, it's a long one."

"All right," Kevin replies. "Anyone got something I can write with? And on?"

"Of course not," Cecil declares. "Writing utensils are _illegal_!"

"I have," Steve says, easily.

"Steve!" Cecil exclaims, aghast.

"Oh, shush," Steve replies, pulling his notebook and pencil from his pocket. "I'm a truth-seeker, remember? Truth-seeking requires copious notes, and some minor law-breaking."

Cecil scowls. Steve looks unfazed, and hands the notebook and pencil to Kevin.

"OK, Naomi, go for it," Kevin says, turning to a blank page.

"Right," she replies. "This is transcribed in Dzy-an-thyl, and my Unmodified Sumerian isn't good enough to translate as I'm going, so…"

"No worries, I can manage it," Kevin tells her, easily. "Just give me the Dzy-an-thyl, and I'll translate as I go."

"Show-off," Naomi says, warmly.

And she starts reading out the invocation. It's an alarming language to listen to: spiky and guttural, and Carlos doesn't like the sound of it at all. The invocation turns out to be four good-sized verses long, and they do them one at a time, at quite a pace, despite the fact that Kevin is translating as they go.

"…and there we are," Naomi concludes, once they're done. "The two of you need to use that invocation, in the middle of an infinity circle. Looks to be a standard one, except there's a particular sigil in the centre of each of the two loops."

"Is it, by any chance, a capital X with a vertical line down the centre?" Kevin asks, levelly.

"Yes," is Naomi's answer, and she sounds surprised. "How did you guess?"

"We've seen it around," Kevin replies. "Is that all I need to know?"

"Looks like it. Just… be careful, OK? The First Infernal Plane is _dangerous_."

"I know. Believe me… I know."

There's the barest little shiver in Kevin's voice as he speaks, and Carlos wonders – once again – what it is that the man isn't saying. But he has other things to worry about right now… such as the fact that his two boyfriends are about to attempt summoning something of incredible power and even more incredible danger.

"All right," Naomi says. "Well. Good luck to you both. And, Kevin… call me when you get back to Night Vale. I think we really need your eye on these weird messages."

"I will, I promise," Kevin answers. "Say hi to Darla for me."

"Oh, I will. She's going to find this whole thing hilarious."

"I'd expect nothing less. Catch you later."

"Indeed you will. Goodbye, everyone."

And Naomi hangs up.

"Interesting friend you have there," Earl says, dryly.

"Oh, she's a delight!" Kevin enthuses. "I'll have to introduce you sometime. Now… Cecil." He turns back to his double, taking Cecil's hands again. "I know you're worried about this. And… I think a certain amount of worry is normal. But I _also_ know we can make this work. You and me, Cecil. You and me, summoning a demon from the _First_ Infernal Plane. I mean, that's…"

"…Terrifying beyond reason?" Cecil tries.

"Well, yes," Kevin concedes, which betrays more than a little of how nervous _he_ is. "But we can do it. And, once we do… we might have a better idea of what's really going on here."

"Kevin does have a point, Cecil," Steve chips in, which is probably not as helpful as the man is aiming for. "The more we know about this… whatever it is… the better."

Cecil looks so alarmed, he doesn't even seem to have the energy to snark back at his brother-in-law. Carlos steps in closer, putting a hand on Cecil's arm.

"I know this is dangerous," he says. "And scary. And part of me doesn't want you to do it. But… Kevin's right. If this Huntokar is a real demon, we need to know what it wants. And what it's doing here. This could help us in the long run."

Cecil sighs. "I know. I just… I gave all this stuff up. Because it was dangerous."

"Also because that warehouse burned down," Earl chips in, perhaps not all that helpfully.

"Earl!" Cecil exclaims. "We promised not to talk about it!"

"I know. But it was sort of cool."

"You burned a warehouse down?" Kevin repeats, looking halfway between aghast and delighted. "How did that happen?"

"…Suddenly," is all Cecil will say in response.

Earl, on the other hand, merely shrugs. "He was trying to impress Steve."

"Earl!" Cecil exclaims, going rather pink. Perhaps mercifully, Steve _also_ goes slightly pink, and doesn't say anything.

Kevin claps his hands together. "Well, we are simply going to _have_ to discuss this in depth later. I can't wait!"

"You people are _fascinating_ ," Tomas remarks, with a little grin.

"That is rich coming from you!" Carlos replies.

His twin shrugs. "Touché."

"We should… maybe focus?" Dana suggests, in Sensible Mayor Voice.

"You're right," Kevin agrees, at once, and then smiles at Cecil again. "We have a demon to summon."

***

The preparation takes a little while. They move to a clearer section of the warehouse, and Kevin starts drawing out an incredibly complex and rather large symbol on the ground.

"What are you drawing it _with_?" Atilio asks, watching in what seems – to Carlos' alarm – to be interest.

"Charcoal," Kevin answers, easily.

"You were carrying charcoal with you?"

"Of course."

"But… why?"

Kevin shrugs. "In case I need to draw a summoning circle. It's much quicker and easier than using blood."

Sometimes it is best just to accept these things.

The symbol in question – the 'infinity circle' Naomi mentioned – appears to be a huge infinity symbol – a figure-8 on its side – with a series of sigils and words in a language Carlos can't identify but suspects is this Dzy-an-thyl that Kevin and Naomi both speak.

"You seem to know precisely what you're doing," Tomas remarks, conversationally, watching Kevin work.

"I do," Kevin answers, calmly. "I've been performing summonings for twenty years. And I learned from a woman who is literally half-demon. And I used to work for a man who was literally _all_ demon. And…"

He trails off, only for a moment, but it's a very telling moment.

"…That's why this sort of thing is second nature to me."

Tomas nods. "So what does it all mean?"

Carlos has been wondering the same. He _frequently_ wonders the same whenever it comes to Kevin and his… unusual hobbies… but generally thinks it's safer not to question things.

"Well, it's pretty easy, really," Kevin starts off, looking quite delighted to be asked. "Generally speaking you use regular circles for summonings, but if you're invoking something from one of the upper two planes, you need an infinity circle like this, to channel all the extra power. The sigils have various purposes – those ones there are to open the planar gate to let the subject through, and those ones all along the left side are to implore it not to eviscerate us all the moment it manifests. Then these ones here and here are the honourifics – most circles have a lot of common elements but there are certain parts that are specific to whatever you're summoning. In this case, Huntokar's emblem."

"And what about the words down the right side?" Tomas asks, clearly interested by the whole process.

"Those are to placate the being in question," Kevin explains. "Most demons tend to be less than pleasant when you summon them, especially if you're not soul-bound to them. And if they're First Infernal Plane, it's much worse, because you can't _be_ soul-bound to something from the First. Or, technically you can, but they won't stand for it. They think it's beneath them."

Tomas looks impressed. "So… you are in effect summoning demonic _royalty_?"

Kevin gives a little shrug. "Demonic upper-class, certainly. They're called 'highborn' for a reason."

"You know, all of this is not making me feel better," Cecil cuts in.

"Cecil, Cecil, it will be fine," Kevin insists again. "Absolutely fine. And awesome. And it will feel _great_."

But Cecil still doesn't look convinced.

"I think we're ready to go," Kevin now says, standing and surveying the infinity circle with a careful eye. "Everyone… you might want to stand back a little. You know, just for health and safety reasons."

As they all do as they're told, Carlos pauses and grips Cecil's hands for a moment. "It's going to be fine," he says, unconsciously echoing Kevin, and definitely trying to convince himself as much as Cecil. "Kevin knows what he's doing. And you're his double. And… you know, please don't die."

Carlos realises he's lost it a little at the end of this, so he grabs Cecil and kisses him instead, hoping that will help. And then he does the same to Kevin for good measure. "Don't you die either," he insists.

"Scout's honour!" Kevin promises.

And it's time.

Kevin and Cecil move over to the infinity circle, kneeling opposite each other in the centre of the two loops. And… there's a strange perfection to that, a strange _chirality_ , that Carlos can't help noticing, even if he doesn't have long to muse on it.

Taking a deep breath, Kevin holds out his hands, palms up, and Cecil does the same, palms down, locking their fingers together. There's a flicker of something odd in Kevin's dark eyes at that, although it's only there for a second.

And then the two men begin to speak. To _chant_ , following the words of the invocation written in the notebook lying close by, where they can both see. And Carlos can't deny how beautiful it is, to listen to the two of them speaking in unison like that, their voices spiralling around each other.

Then the air goes _cold_ , and heavy, and vibrant red light starts to chase along the charcoal lines on the ground, like water running into a narrow channel, but bright and glowing and otherworldly. It spreads out, until the entire circle and all of the sigils are shining with that same red light, and it feels as though the whole room is shaking.

To begin with, Cecil seems deeply alarmed by what's going on, but as they make it into the second verse his expression starts to calm, to sink into the moment, and though he doesn't quite look as rapt as Kevin, he's getting closer. And Carlos drops onto one knee a little distance back, so he can watch them both better; the movement unconscious because he's so caught up in what's happening.

By the third verse, the infinity circle is glowing so brightly that it hurts a little to look at it, and vibrant light starts to fill the room, spiralling around the circle and the summoners, the air now hot and heavy with a distinctive coppery tang. A resonant thrumming starts up, like a thousand drums being beaten in irregular rhythm, and Carlos realises that Cecil and Kevin have stopped looking at the words of the invocation and are just chanting it anyway, as if the words are in their heads now.

The final verse comes and the whole room is shaking. Carlos can't look away from the two doubles, but he feels a hand on his shoulder and realises it's Tomas, trying to reassure him. And – off to the side – Steve has stepped just slightly in front of Dana and Atilio, as if to shield them, whilst Earl seems to have tried to step in front of all three of them, and there's a certain amount of noble one-upsmanship going on between Steve and Earl, albeit only for a moment.

And then the final words of the invocation come, and the air to the side of the circle is suddenly rent forcefully apart, forming a rip in reality: a rip that glows blindingly bright and hurts to even _think_ about. The two men shout out the last line of the invocation, the world goes white, and a shockwave tears right through the room.

And… silence, save for the slight sizzling and curls of smoke surrounding the being who was most assuredly not there before: a tall, mostly humanoid figure with the head of a deer, sweeping antlers, broad shoulders, and a large, disc-shaped structure behind its shoulders, almost as high as the antlers, that seems to be formed of some sort of shimmering chitin.

Cecil and Kevin both drop forwards, gasping hard, and Kevin seems to recover himself first, realising the ritual has worked and moving to pull Cecil to his feet a little frantically, backing them both away from the creature in the room. Carlos leaps up as well, racing closer to his boyfriends without thinking about the consequences, needing to touch them, to reassure himself that they're OK.

For now, at least.

The demon gives a languid stretch of its vast shoulders and then regards its summoners with a mixture of surprise and resignation.

"It has been a very long time indeed since anyone from this plane dared invoke me," the demon declares. Precisely why the words are in English, Carlos isn't sure. "Explain yourselves."

Kevin takes a step forward, presses his hand to his chest, and immediately says something in that same spiky, guttural language he and Naomi were using earlier: Dzy-an-thyl; the language of the upper three planes, and Carlos realises maybe this is Kevin trying to placate the thing they've summoned.

The being looks at him in surprise, and repeats the gesture after a moment – the words sounding somehow even more terrifying coming from its lips – and gives the slightest nod of its antlered head.

"You understand the formalities, I will concede that," the demon says, switching back into English. "Very well. I am Huntokar, the Mighty, the Benevolent, Lord of the Infinite Chasm and High Count of the First Infernal Plane."

"Greetings, my Lord, on behalf of your honoured supplicants," Kevin replies, still clearly going for broke. "I am Kevin, of Desert Bluffs, and this is Cecil, of Night Vale. We humbly beg an audience."

Huntokar regards them both for a moment. And then… "You realise you're completely identical?"

"Yes, we know," Kevin says, brightly.

"I see. Are you twins?"

"No, no we're doubles. Those two are twins."

There's an odd little moment, during which Huntokar seems to regard Cecil and Kevin, before looking at Carlos and Tomas. It's so surreal, no one really knows how to respond.

"And why have you invoked me?" Huntokar asks, after a moment, evidently in favour of getting things back on track. "You are aware I could smite you all with a single gesture, and send you screaming into the Void from which there is no escape?"

"We know that, Mighty Huntokar," Kevin replies. "But we had to take the risk. We need your help."

" _My_ help?" Huntokar repeats. "I have not walked this plane for centuries. Not since…"

And then Huntokar stops, looking around for a moment, and Carlos can't help feeling that the demon is seeing more than just the room they're in. "Oh," Huntokar says, finally, and it's a strange exclamation to hear from a being like this. "We are in Nebolgorod."

"Yes," Cecil replies. His voice is shaking a little, but he's holding himself together. "We're in Nebolgorod. A place where you supposedly rule."

Huntokar looks surprised. "I?" he says. "I rule? I have not ruled Nebolgorod for centuries. It is true I oversaw its creation, and lorded over its earliest days, but even bound in mortal form, my time here was limited. I returned to my own plane, and left the city in the hands of my followers, telling them that one day I would return to rule them again."

The demon gives a weird little shrug. "I wasn't sure if I ever _would_ return to rule them again. But it sounds good, and these things are nine-tenths for effect, after all."

"So… you're not ruling Nebolgorod right now?" Kevin asks.

"No. No, I am not. If someone is ruling in my stead, in my _name_ , then they are an impostor."

"I knew it," Kevin says, his voice a mixture of resignation and vindication. "If you'd been here all this time in your true form, the planes would have been ripped asunder."

"Indeed," Huntokar agrees. "Though I did spend quite some time walking in mortal form. It allowed me to oversee the establishment of the city, before I finally returned to the First."

"And you didn't leave instructions for someone to act as you, in your stead?" Cecil asks.

Huntokar bristles visibly, and literally: spikes appearing along the lines of his arms and shoulders for a moment. "I did not," the demon declares, firmly. "None may impersonate me. I am _Huntokar_."

"Quite, Mighty Huntokar, quite," Kevin agrees, quickly, in the voice of someone all-too-practiced at placating demons. "But we believe someone is. And it is our intention to confront them, to prevent a religious schism ripping this city apart."

Huntokar appears to consider this for a moment, and Carlos can't help feeling that there's a lot going on in the demon's mind, and not all of it involves blood and evisceration.

"Then you must put a stop to it," Huntokar declares, finally.

"But _how_?" Earl cuts in, stepping forward. "The Followers of Huntokar rule this city, supposedly in your name, and the Acolytes of the Overball are oppressed on a daily basis: forced to meet in secret, always at risk of attack…"

"The _what_?" Huntokar interrupts.

Earl sighs. "The Overball. It's a giant bowling ball that fell down here from Night Vale. Many of the locals consider it to be divine, and worship the one who sent it."

"I see." Huntokar looks… conflicted. "And the one who sent it is?"

"Uh… that would be me," Cecil answers, nervously. "But I wasn't trying to get worshipped as a god. I was just bowling! I like bowling! And… please don't smite me?"

For a moment, Huntokar seems to consider this, and then the demon's deer-shaped face breaks into a rather alarming smile. "Oh, I have just had the _best_ idea," he declares.

"You have?" Kevin says.

Huntokar nods. "Yes. You want to make an impression on this impostor. You want to turn the tides of favour in this city. You want to play on the fact that some of the locals believe the identical untwin is a god."

"Yes," Cecil answers. He still sounds a little nervous, but less so now, as it slowly becomes clear that Huntokar is on the cusp of helping them.

"Well, then," Huntokar continues. "What you need to do… is make an entrance. And I can help you there. I can transport all of you from this place to the steps of my cathedral. And that, little mortals, I assure you, will get _everyone's_ attention."

There's an odd silence. They've all been contemplating what will happen when they make it to the cathedral, but Carlos doubts any of them expected it to happen _right now_.

"Then that's what we need to do," Cecil says, decisively. "Though… we don't all have to do this. It's going to be dangerous."

"Oh, Cecil," Kevin replies, "you really think _anyone_ in this room would leave you to do it alone?"

They wouldn't. Of course they wouldn't. And one look at their faces is enough to prove it.

"We're with you, Cecil," Dana says. "You know we are. Together, we can do this. We can bring peace to this city and repair relations with Night Vale. _Without_ the need for a massive battle."

"And it'll certainly make an impression!" Steve concurs, a mixture of worry and readiness in his eyes, which Cecil clearly isn't sure how to respond to. "Although," and here he turns to Tomas, " _you're_ not allowed to tell the government we got teleported. It has to be a secret. I don't want that on my file."

Tomas nods. "My lips are sealed."

Carlos turns to their father. "Are you… are you sure it's wise to drag you along on this?" he asks.

Atilio takes his hands. "I'm not turning back now. Besides, if you all go, it would leave me alone. And I have to make sure you and Tomas behave yourselves."

That more or less settles it.

"Very well," Huntokar says, seeming a mixture of surprised and amused by this little interlude. "All of you stand together. I will teleport you to the square directly in front of my cathedral, and then I will de-manifest. Resist the urge to re-summon me every five minutes to ask for further advice. I may not be so friendly next time."

All of them gather together in the centre of the room: Cecil at the front, Kevin on one side and Carlos on the other, with everyone else behind them.

Huntokar raises his arms, and then pauses. "Oh, and one more thing," he says, and points to Cecil. "You are more powerful than you realise. Don't forget that."

"I… won't?" Cecil promises, seeming a little taken aback by the remark.

But, before anyone can say anything else, Huntokar raises his arms again and a spiral of light and smoke spins up around the group, growing faster and faster, and more and more intense, until they can't see beyond it and even the demon himself is out of sight.

And then reality seems to slam into them, the ground beneath their feet falling away only to be replaced instantly by a different ground: a more elaborate ground.

The smoke dies down, and they stare around. They're now standing in the centre of a huge, sweeping square. Statues run in two rows at either side, and the tiling beneath them depicts elegant symbols and what – Carlos half-suspects – are some subtle sigils.

Up ahead of them, a vast, imposing building towers over the square: a structure that is part-church, part-castle, part-citadel and part something else entirely.

"The Cathedral of Huntokar," Earl breathes. "We made it."

People come running: dozens of guards, all dressed in the same red and purple livery as those who attacked them at the gathering of the Acolytes. Within seconds, they're surrounded, the guards pointing some sort of polearms at them, none daring to get too close, obviously stunned and a little bit terrified by what's just happened.

It's now or never. Cecil takes a deep breath, gripping hands with Kevin and Carlos for a moment, and then steps forward, holding his arms out a little.

"I am Cecil Gershwin Palmer," he declares, in a voice similar to his favourite radio tone, if perhaps slightly more militant. "I am the one who sent the Overball, an envoy of Night Vale, and a lover of the Demon of the Upperworld himself. And there are _two_ of me."

A pause, and Cecil – in a moment of pure magnificence – goes for broke.

"Take us to your leader!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaand... cliffhanger! ;-)
> 
> It may not surprise you to learn that I was midway through this one when the latest episode ( _The 12:37_ ) aired. Needless to say, I appear to have canon at my heels again!
> 
> Ah well. Nothing like a little motivation to keep the updates going... ;-)
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: What can I say..? Brace for the third strike!


	8. Perfect Strike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...So I'm back. I realised I did my little vanishing-act again. It's a long story... but suffice it to say _I am determined with the fire of a thousand suns to finish this thing_ and so here I am, with a new chapter. It is my New Year's Resolution to get this thing _done_ and I can totally get started on my New Year's Resolution before it's even Christmas, on account of time not existing.
> 
> Yes. That.
> 
> So. Chapter! This chapter contains a reveal I have been waiting _literally years_ to get to, and I am super-psyched to share it with anyone who's still following this story. I hope you enjoy!

**Perfect Strike**

_A shot whereby the ball hits only four pins, causing them to fall and knock down all the other pins as they go, resulting in a strike; an elegant shot with dramatic results._

***

The Cathedral of Huntokar is vast, and impressive.

As they're led deeper into it, surrounded on all sides by those red-and-purple-clad guards, Carlos can't help the rising sense of worry. Their arrival has obviously made an impression, and it's clear that the guards are deeply unsettled by Cecil – and by Kevin – but, at the same time, it doesn't change the fact that they're now deep inside the Cathedral of Huntokar, and very much trapped.

"How are you going to play this?" Carlos whispers to Cecil, as they walk.

"I don't know," Cecil admits, softly. "I'm improvising."

"You're doing great," Kevin adds. "If all else fails, threaten them with me."

Cecil nods. "Believe me, I'm going to."

Eventually, they're taken through a set of immense double doors – several storeys high, and quite ridiculous – and into a huge audience chamber. Columns as thick as ancient tree trunks run in two rows, one on either side, and it's clear the room can hold thousands of people. Right now, it's empty, save for a row of guards at the far end, where broad, sweeping steps lead up to a raised dais. The guards stand along the bottom step, rigidly at attention, each holding a banner bearing Huntokar's emblem.

"This is bad," Earl mutters, and it's clear how alarmed he is. "I never thought I'd…"

"It's going to be fine," Cecil insists. "You're with us. We're all together."

Possibly he's trying to reassure himself as well.

They halt in the centre of the wide chamber, the guards around them backing off, and somehow Carlos feels _more_ threatened like this, even though they're no longer surrounded.

There's silence for a moment, and then one of the guards steps forward.

"Supplicants! Behold Huntokar, the Mighty, the Benevolent, Lord of Nebolgorod, Voice of the Great Cavern, Builder of Cities and Scourge of the Upperworld!"

"Oh, this is bad," Earl mutters again.

A single, thunderous drumbeat cuts the air, and, from behind the huge, deep-purple curtains hanging at the back of the dais, a figure appears.

The resemblance is undeniable. The figure is tall, and humanoid, but with the head of a deer. Great, sweeping antlers frame its head, behind which is a huge, circular plate that glitters like iridescent chitin. From beneath it, a long, flowing cloak billows: purple again, and adorned with a row of golden stars.

"…Yep, this is definitely bad…" Steve murmurs.

" _Greetings, mortals_ ," says the figure, voice deep and booming and ominous. " _I have watched your progress all day. You certainly are persistent. And now you come before me, a General of the Acolytes, an Envoy of Night Vale, a supposed-God, and the Demon of the Upperworld. Quite a collection. I am impressed. But… this quest of yours must come to an end. Order must be restored_."

Cecil takes a deep breath and steps forward.

"We beg to differ. We have come to present a different option. I am Cecil Gershwin Palmer, Sender of the Overball, and on behalf of my Acolytes, I–"

"… _Cecil_?" the figure repeats, and though its voice is still deep and booming, the surprise is impossible to miss. " _Cecil **Palmer**_?"

"That's right," Cecil answers, obviously a little thrown. "You… know me?"

Carlos feels his blood go cold. Did they miss something? Some variable he didn't account for?

The figure on the dais paces forwards, down the steps and onto the wide open floor, closer to them. And then it reaches up, taking off what is revealed to be not a deer head, but an elaborate deer _mask_ , and showing that great, glittering disc to be merely a part of the flowing cloak.

But Carlos only has seconds to muse on this before he sees the face of the person behind the mask. He's never seen the man, and he's not identical to anyone, but the resemblance is uncanny, and undeniable.

And sometimes lightning does strike three times in the same place.

"My name is Hunter Kendrick Palmer," says the man behind the mask. "And, Cecil… I am your brother."

"Well, darn," Tomas mutters, the only one of them seemingly able to speak. "Didn't see that coming."

Silence.

"You're…" Cecil starts out. "That's…"

"Impossible?" Hunter says, softly. Without his mask – which must contain some sort of vocoder – his voice is much more normal. "No, Cecil. It isn't impossible. It's merely improbable."

But this is Nebolgorod, below Night Vale, where impossible comes as standard and improbable comes with your choice of topping.

"But… but how?" Cecil manages. "I don't _have_ a brother. I… I don't…"

"I suppose I'm not surprised you don't remember," Hunter replies. "You were so caught up in everything that was happening."

"Everything..?" Cecil repeats. "I…"

He pauses, as if realising, and the act hits him so hard that he sways a little – enough that Carlos instinctively puts a hand on his arm, to steady him.

"…It was when I was fifteen, wasn't it? When I – apparently – became an intern at the radio station. When… when I made that _tape_."

Hunter nods. "You found it again, I presume? That must have been… unsettling."

"Yes," Cecil answers. "Last year. I had no memory whatsoever of making it, and when I listened, I…"

"There was… a creature," Hunter explains. "I don't know what it was called. It wasn't from our world, but precisely where it _did_ come from, I never found out. It started stalking you. It was drawn by the way you sounded when you were practice-broadcasting. I used to hide around the corner in the hallway and watch you, and the air itself would become thick, and shimmer, and… that's when I started seeing it."

"You _saw_ this thing?" Kevin cuts in. He's standing on Cecil's other side, defensive and careful, and it's clear when Hunter looks at him that he has no idea how to deal with the fact that Cecil has a double.

"Yes," Hunter answers. "Just glimpses, but I did. And… OK, hold on one second. You look _identical_ to my brother. Who in blazes are you?"

Kevin smiles, and it's very much one of the smiles he used to favour back in his Strexcorp days. "I'm Kevin, from Desert Bluffs. Cecil's double. And one of his boyfriends. Also I'm very armed."

"I… see," Hunter manages. "You're going to have to explain all that at some point."

"Oh, I will," Kevin agrees, easily. "Also I summon demons. Did I mention that? _Actual_ demons. Large ones."

Under less alarming circumstances, Kevin's defensive edge would be extraordinarily cute. Right now, Carlos is slightly concerned it might tip this the wrong way.

But, if Hunter feels threatened, it doesn't show. "Really? You might know a thing or two about what happened to me, then."

"What _did_ happen to you?" Cecil pushes. "You… you say this _thing_ was stalking me, and you could see it, but..?"

"Eventually, the aura it was creating started altering your mind," Hunter replies, still flicking his eyes over to Kevin every now and then, with a wary edge. "You forgot I existed. You forgot Mom existed too, but not to the same extent. You thought she was hiding. But me… you didn't remember me at all. And, for a time, you couldn't see either of us. I'd stand right in front of you and wave my arms around and you wouldn't even blink. It was… well, it was kind of terrifying. And then, one day… the thing tried to attack you. It attacked, and I leapt on it, and there was a scuffle, and… before I knew it, I was no longer in Night Vale, and the thing was gone. I never saw it again and… I'm guessing it never came after you?"

"Not that I remember," Cecil manages. He's gone pale, and Carlos grips his arm even tighter, trying to make him feel grounded.

Despite everything, Hunter manages a smile. "Well, that's something."

"Where did you end up?" Kevin now asks, and there's an edge of academic interest to his tone.

"I don't know," Hunter answers. "It was cold, and grey, a bit like being way off in the desert but with all the colour washed out. There were lights in the sky overhead, but I don't know if they were stars. They certainly weren't like the stars back home. Sometimes I would see doorways flickering in the distance, but they vanished when I got close."

Kevin gasps. "Intra-planar space," he says, and the academic interest is blatant now. "I've heard stories about it, but never anything substantiated. But there are old accounts that talk of a kind of… corridor… between the planes. I think you might have been in one of those."

"I could believe it," Hunter replies, with a nod. "Sometimes I would see figures in the distance, too, and I was sure some of them were going _through_ the doors. But I could never reach any of them, either. It was confusing. And more than a little frightening."

"Wait… this happened when Cecil was fifteen?" Steve cuts in. "How old were you?" There's an edge of Concerned Parent Voice to his tone, which Carlos supposes is understandable.

"Eighteen," Hunter answers. "I was eighteen." A pause. "You're Steve Carlsberg, right?"

Steve seems a little taken aback. "Yes. But I don't remember you at all." A beat. "Kevin, is that normal?"

"It's unusual, but it makes sense," Kevin replies. "Some demons and extra-planar creatures are able to wipe their victims from recorded history. It isn't common – or, not in a way we can prove, given the context – but it is known to have happened. The likelihood is… that's what this thing did to you. It would explain why people other than Cecil don't remember you."

And _that_ is flatly terrifying.

"How did you get here?" Earl now asks, which makes Hunter turn to look at him.

"You… I know you," Hunter says, suddenly. "I mean, of course I know you, you're one of the key figures among the Acolytes of the Overball, but… I _know you_."

"I'm Earl Harlan. I was Cecil's best friend growing up."

Realisation dawns in Hunter's eyes. "Of course. Of course. You were always around. You look… different now."

Earl gives a little shrug. "I grew up. It happens. You know, usually."

Time being what it isn't.

"Yes," Hunter agrees, seeming ever-so-slightly distracted. "Well. You asked how I got here. I got here because – eventually – I found a door that I could get to. An old oak door, that… OK, almost all of you gave me a _really_ weird look when I said that."

"Let's just say we've had some experience with them," Cecil replies, with the inevitable wryness that always follows this declaration.

"I see," Hunter answers. "Well… the one I found led here. To Nebolgorod. I went through it, and it vanished moments later, and then I was standing in this room – up on that dais – and loads of people with weapons turned and surrounded me. And, I'm not going to lie, I was pretty scared. And one of them asked my name, and I said, 'Hunter K Palmer', and suddenly they all fell down on their knees."

For a moment, Carlos can't work out why, and then he rolls the name around in his mind, and…

"Merciful Einstein," he breathes. "'Hunter K Palmer'. They actually think you're Huntokar!"

Hunter nods. "So I rapidly worked out. Apparently, this god of theirs once ruled the city, and – just before he left – he claimed he would return one day to rule them again. And when I popped up… they assumed I was him."

"And you just went along with it?" Cecil exclaims, looking aghast.

"I was eighteen years old," Hunter reminds him. "When you're eighteen, and a bunch of people think you're a god… it's weirdly easy to just go along with it."

"And _I_ was right twice over," Kevin cuts in. "The real Huntokar was a demon, and the fake Huntokar was a mortal with plenty of smoke and mirrors. People should listen to me more often."

Now Hunter looks alarmed. "…You've met the _real_ Huntokar?"

Kevin shrugs. "Sure we have. Cecil and I summoned him earlier this afternoon. It was _awesome_. I still feel amazing!"

"So… let me get this straight," Cecil starts out, still staring at his brother in shock. "You ended up here and they thought you were Huntokar, returned to rule them, so you just… did? You never tried to get home?"

"Until the Day of the Overball, I had no idea where this city actually was," Hunter replies. "I didn't realise I was right under Night Vale, or that I was actually tiny in comparison to what I used to be. And… and by then… I had been ruling for a long time. A very long time. I have been Nebolgorodian far longer than I was ever Night Valean, and…"

He looks torn. "I had to protect my people. Events spiralled out of control. First the Overball, then the Demon of the Upperworld and the Many-Feathered-One, and all the time our houses have been vanishing, and…"

There's a weird kind of pain in Hunter's eyes, and Carlos almost feels sorry for him.

"Why did you let it keep happening?" Earl asks, an echoing pain in his voice. "The schism, the oppression, the _disappearances_..?"

"I thought I was protecting my people," Hunter answers. "They looked to me for so long, and my advisors… all of them said I was doing the right thing. I thought I _was_. When you're the leader, you have to make hard decisions, and I… I made them."

"Of _course_ you made them," comes a new voice, from the corner of the room; a silken, insidious voice born of quiet certainty.

Everyone falls silent as the newcomer paces over: a man, with silver-grey hair and golden skin, dressed in elaborate red and purple robes. He's carrying a golden staff set with the emblem of Huntokar at its top, and the staff clicks on the tiled floor as the man approaches.

"Ah, there you are," Hunter says, seeming pleased by the newcomer's arrival. "Everyone, this is Grand High Vizier Vasquez, my closest advisor."

"Indeed," the Vizier says, looking at them with the kind of attention that makes the hairs on the back of Carlos' neck stand up. "So. The dissidents finally walk into our grasp…"

"Don't call us that," Kevin cuts in, his voice deathly serious.

"No?" Vasquez replies. "It's what you are. Harlan especially. We've waited a long time to get our hands on you."

"It isn't as simple as that," Hunter cuts in. "I know them. Cecil is my brother. And Earl… I remember Earl from…"

"From where?" Vasquez pushes, smoothly. "Come, now, my Lord Huntokar. There was only ever _Nebolgorod_ … and the planes between reality, where you walked without mercy."

"Now you listen here," Cecil interjects, in the tone of voice that Carlos finds most distracting. "We were just starting to make progress. We're going to make this _right_."

"Vizier Vasquez has a point," Hunter says, though he sounds so very conflicted. "I need to decide how to proceed with this." He nods to the guards still lurking close by. "Lock them up for now. In rooms, not cells. I'm not a monster…"

_No_ , Carlos thinks, as they're dragged off; Cecil still shouting back at his brother, trying to make him see reason. _But you're under the thumb of one_.

***

Well. If nothing else, Hunter's insistance about 'rooms, not cells' rings true.

It's not long after, and Carlos is sitting on the edge of a very large bed in a very elaborate room, somewhere within the palace that is the Cathedral of Huntokar. Cecil and Kevin are both with him, but the three of them have been split up from the others, and Carlos can only hope that they're in similarly non-cell-like environs.

Right now, Kevin is pacing up and down, up and down, up and down, like a man with too much energy and nowhere to ground it. He's been disarmed, which he is clearly unhappy about, and it's taken a fair bit of persuading to get him _not_ to summon Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty and 'tell him to go wild'.

For now, at least. Carlos has to hope it won't actually come to that.

Cecil, meanwhile, is sitting next to Carlos, head in his hands, as though his mind has hit a wall and he doesn't know what to do.

Right now, none of them knows.

"…I have a _brother_ ," Cecil manages, eventually. "I didn't… I mean… how do you _forget_ something like that?"

"More ways than you might think," Kevin replies. The obvious distress in Cecil's voice makes his double stop pacing and go over to him, dropping to his knees in front of Cecil and taking hold of his hands. "But that doesn't make it your fault."

"Wait… do _you_ have a brother?" Carlos asks, looking at Kevin. "You've never mentioned one, but…"

But there's a lot you haven't told us yet.

"Not that I know of," is Kevin's answer. "Though that doesn't mean I don't. My memories are still not… right. But that doesn't matter now. Cecil _does_ have a brother."

"Who is apparently the God-King of Nebologorod!" Cecil exclaims. "And… and I don't remember him, not even a little, and I… how am I even supposed to deal with this?"

"One step at a time," Carlos says, moving in closer and curling against Cecil's side. "Especially as we have a more immediate problem."

Kevin nods. "The Vizier. We were making progress with Hunter. And then _that_ guy came in, and…" A dark look. "He's the one in control here. That much is obvious."

"Agreed," Carlos replies. "And I get the impression that, if we can get through to Hunter, we can make this right. But the other guy…"

"Bad news," Kevin agrees. "Very bad news. He practically has 'villain' written across his forehead. But _why_? Something about him seems so–"

Kevin is cut off in mid-sentence by a sudden, insistent tapping in the far corner of the room.

"What was that?" Cecil says.

"I don't know," Kevin replies. "But I–"

He's interrupted again by more of the same tapping, albeit louder and somewhat more insistent. The three of them all jump to their feet, staring over at the source of the sound. Kevin's hand goes to where his knife should be – instinct, obviously – and he sighs in irritation when he remembers it isn't there.

"We should probably–" Carlos starts out, and then it's his turn to be interrupted as the air vent in the far corner of the room bursts open, and a single figure comes tumbling through it, sprawling onto their back on the floor and staring up with a bright smile.

It's Tomas. Of course. Carlos isn't sure whether to roll his eyes or be secretly relieved.

"Can't you use a door for once?" he says.

Tomas springs to his feet, brushing himself down. "Doors are boring. Plus, all the doors between where I was and here are guarded, and I figured we're trying to do this the non-violent way so I decided to take the ducts instead. This place has ducts! Like an old-fashioned villain lair! It's so kitsch! Also, are you three OK?"

"Physically, we're fine," Carlos replies. "Emotionally…" and here he grips Cecil's hand, "…not quite so much."

His twin nods. "Understandable. But, hey, glad I found you first. Wasn't exactly sure where the duct was going to take me. We need to talk. And… look, don't get mad with me, but it's work stuff. Agency stuff. You know."

Right now, Carlos has enough on his mind to worry about, so he nods. "What is it?"

"The Vizier," Tomas says. "The guy in the villain cloak with the villain staff. I mean, seriously? But that's not the problem. The problem is who he is."

"Who he is?" Kevin repeats.

"Yes," Tomas answers. "I recognised him from his file the moment I laid eyes on him, and then Hunter called him by name, and that was such a relief because I've been trying to remember that guy's surname all afternoon, and–"

"All afternoon?" Carlos interrupts. "But we only… _oh_. **Oh**."

And the final piece falls into place.

"Oh?" Cecil repeats. "What are we missing?"

"That guy, Vizier Vasquez?" Tomas says, and the man looks a little too gleeful at getting to deliver this particular reveal. "He's not Nebolgorodian either. He's from topside. He's Alex the Archivist, the guy from the agency, the one who invented the shrinking technology."

"…Oh, that's not good," Kevin replies. "That's not good at all. Did you know he was here?"

"No," is Tomas' answer, accompanied by his most serious and sensible face. "I swear to you, I didn't. No one knows what happened to him. I guess now we know why."

"So… what, he moved down here after he fell out with the agency and somehow got himself a position of power?" Carlos says.

"I would imagine so," Tomas agrees. "I told you he used to come down here a lot whilst he was still working for them. He probably set himself up a back door so he could run here if it all went wrong. Must've turned it to his advantage. But…"

"…Why is he apparently working for my brother?" Cecil finishes.

"I can give you the most obvious answer," Kevin replies, carefully. "But you're not going to like it."

"Go on."

"He's the power behind the throne. He's manipulating Hunter for his own ends, most likely because the circumstances behind Hunter's initial appearance here were impossible to merely pass over. Nebolgorod gets its demonic god-king, and Alex Vasquez gets to rule from the shadows, essentially free of the consequences. Able to do something like start a war with Night Vale, but have it be Hunter's fault if things go wrong."

"Then we have do something," Cecil insists. "We can't let this man push everything over the edge. Even if my long-lost brother _wasn't_ involved, we'd still have to do the same."

"Quite true," Tomas concurs. "So… first step? We've got to get to the others. Reckon Hunter must've insisted on keeping you guys together, because I was on my own. I'm hoping Dad and Steve and Earl and Dana will all be close by, and–"

At this point, Tomas is interrupted by tapping on the _other_ side of the room. All four of them stare over at it, seconds before Tomas' face breaks into a bright smile. "Really? Well, well, that's pleasing…"

Before anyone can say anything else, however, the matching duct on the far side of the room bursts open and another figure comes tumbling in. This second arrival isn't quite as graceful as Tomas', and nor does the arrivee look quite as pleased by the whole process.

" _Steve_?!" Cecil exclaims, and it's hard to tell if he's annoyed or relieved. (Probably both).

Steve blinks up at them from flat on his back. "Aha!" he exclaims. "That totally worked. Knew it would." He scrambles to his feet, brushing himself down, and looking a little startled when he sees Tomas is here too. "Wait, they put you all in together?"

"No, just the three of us," Cecil replies. "Tomas got here the same way you did."

"Ducts!" Tomas declares, looking positively delighted by Steve's arrival. "Aren't they so kitsch?!"

"Terribly," Steve agrees. "But I figured, if the people who built this place were foolish enough to include them, why not take advantage? And… are you all OK? You know, apart from the obvious…"

"Yes," Carlos says. "We're OK."

"Aside from my long-lost brother being God-King of Nebolgorod!" Cecil exclaims.

"Yeah," Steve replies, looking really very understanding (which Cecil clearly doesn't know how to respond to). "Although… that Vizier guy… might just be me, but does anyone else think he could be another out-of-towner? Possibly even vague-yet-menacing government agency? He has that air about him."

Tomas claps his hands together. "Oh, Steve, you're good," he says, sounding delighted. "Yep. Got it in one. He's not just agency. He's Alex the Archivist."

Steve's eyes go wide. "I knew it!"

"Yes, yes, you're very clever, we know," Cecil says, though without his usual energy.

"What do we do now?" Carlos interjects, trying to get things back on track, and starting to feel a little like the Only Sane Man again (never a good sign).

"We have to find a way to talk to Hunter," Kevin says. "We have to talk to him away from his Vizier, or we're never going to get through to him."

Cecil drops his head. "What if we can't?"

"We _will_ ," Kevin now insists. "And… we need Dana there. She's Mayor of Night Vale. We need the two of them to come to a formal arrangement. Something that Alex – or any allies he might have – can't interfere with."

"A peace deal," Steve says. "It's the only way."

"Steve's…" Cecil starts out, then has to pause and take a deep breath. "…Steve's right. Kevin too, obviously. We have to get Hunter and Dana in a room together, so they can talk this through."

"And we need to do it quickly," Kevin adds. "The longer we wait, the more time Alex has to convince Hunter we're the enemy."

Cecil gives a little shiver at the thought, and Carlos steps in closer to him in response.

"So how do we do this?" Steve now asks. "I mean… we could go for a show of force…" He trails off, obviously not entirely happy with the idea.

"Much as I'd _sorely_ like to set Azzie on some of these guys… I think we have to play this carefully," Kevin says. "We can't expect to sell a peace deal right after a killing spree." A beat. "Although if the peace deal doesn't work, the killing spree is still an option…"

"Kevin…" Cecil starts off, warningly, though his double merely shrugs.

Carlos rubs a hand over his eyes. "All right. So. We're sort-of agreed on the peaceful option. But we have to find the others. And if we go charging down the corridors, it's going to end poorly. So…"

By this point, it's dawned on Carlos that his twin is beaming at him in much the same way as Kevin does when he's had an idea that he thinks is wonderful and any sane person would think was extraordinarily unwise.

"…What?" Carlos pushes, deciding he'd better get this part over with.

"We go the same way we came in," Tomas replies, far too easily. "Or, the way Steve and I came in."

"No," Carlos says, flatly. "I am not crawling around in the ventilation ducts. It's…"

"…dangerous?" Cecil suggests, seemingly on the same page as Carlos.

"I was going to go with 'cliché'," Carlos answers. "But 'dangerous' works, too."

"It's still our best option," Steve points out. "And it's perfectly safe. Tomas and I got here just fine."

Carlos isn't exactly convinced that this is proof of something being a _good_ idea, especially where his twin is concerned. But they have to make a move, and soon, and this is still a better option than the demon-fuelled killing spree plan.

Weirdly, _most_ options tend to sound better than the demon-fuelled killing spree plan.

"…Fine," Carlos concedes. "Fine. But if it goes horribly wrong, I want it on record that this was Tomas' idea."

Somehow, even gleeful agreement on this from his brother doesn't make things seem any better.

***

Ventilation ducts, it turns out, are not comfortable. Or fun.

They take the one Tomas came in by, and they're soon navigating a rather twisty maze of narrow, dusty metal passageways, trying not to bang their heads or make too much noise.

"I still say this is ridiculous," Carlos complains.

"We've done worse," Kevin points out. The man seems unusually calm about the whole affair, but at the same time he's quieter than he should be, and Carlos is still worried by the fact.

"Maybe so," Carlos replies. "But this is still ridiculous!"

"Sometimes you have to take a shortcut," Steve says, in his most sensible tone.

Sometimes it's better not to argue.

It's Dana whose room they find first. She looks a little stunned when the five of them come tumbling out of the duct in the corner, one after the other, in something of a tangled heap.

"What happened to you all?" the young mayor exclaims.

"…We made a plan," Cecil insists, evidently trying to sell the idea as something other than insane. "We decided we need to get you and Hunter in a room together, so the two of you can negotiate a peace deal between Night Vale and Nebolgorod. And we vetoed the demon killing-spree plan because… well… because of the obvious reasons. So instead we took the ventilation ducts."

"Even though it's cliché," Carlos murmurs.

"Even though it's cliché," Cecil concedes.

"Are you OK?" Kevin now asks Dana, and she seems a little surprised by the question.

"Yes," she answers. "I've been alone in here the whole time, but I've been trying to come up with a way to reach a compromise with Hunter. He seems reasonable, and good, and I understand how it feels to find yourself an unexpected leader at a young age. So… if you can help me get to him, and keep that creepy vizier away… I can do it. I know I can."

Somehow, when Dana buys into an idea, it suddenly seems like a far better one.

"We need to find the others first," Tomas points out. "Earl and our dad. Once we do… we can make this work."

"Oh, I beg to differ," comes a smooth, malevolent voice. "I beg to differ entirely."

They all turn, matching expressions of horror on their faces, and Carlos – for one – feels his blood go cold.

Alex Vasquez is standing in the doorway. And there's a demon at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahahahaha. Alex is so evil. He should probably have a moustache to twirl!
> 
> And I truly hope you enjoyed finding out who the fake Huntokar is. I have been sitting on that one for so long, I can't even.
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: Peril. So much peril. Also demons.


	9. Anchor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, everyone. I return! I have another chapter for you, and it's a big one.
> 
> Let me explain. It has no doubt not slipped your notice that this fic has been going ridiculously slow. It has, I know. After putting it on hold to write _A Song of Blood and Sunlight_ , I've had a hard time getting it to work again, and that galls me. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I needed to push this one towards its endgame sooner than originally planned, before I risk losing control of it entirely. So... that's what I'm doing. The end itself will be what I've always intended, but I'll be getting there faster than I would have liked.
> 
> This does, however, come with three key benefits. One: I don't lose control of it entirely. Two: I actually stand a chance of getting Part Four, a.k.a. The Grand Finale, written (brace yourselves!) And three: You get the events at the end of _this_ chapter rather sooner. Let's just say it's almost time for someone's Crowning Moment of Awesome... ;-)

**Anchor**

_The person on the team who bowls last, usually the best bowler or the coolest under pressure; the secret weapon._

***

"You!" Tomas exclaims.

"Me," Vizier Vasquez says, calmly. "Did you really think you could creep around _my_ palace undetected?"

"Uh, isn't this my _brother's_ palace?" Cecil cuts in.

The vizier scowls at him. "Please. You really think little _Hunter_ is in charge here?"

"Well, yes, technically, he is," Kevin points out, whilst not-so-subtly moving in front of the rest of them. "And if we let slip what you're doing, I bet most of his people will turn on you."

Alex laughs. "I very much doubt it. I've built up my own network of supporters here. People who see through that _boy_ ; who realise the true Huntokar abandoned Nebolgorod centuries ago."

"Cut the posturing," Kevin now insists, his tone utterly businesslike, "and explain _him_."

All eyes go to the being that is so obviously a demon, who is lurking at Alex's shoulder. "Him?" Alex repeats, calmly. "I would have thought _you_ of all people would recognise a demon when you saw one. You are from Desert Bluffs, after all. The eyes are a dead giveaway."

"Yes," Kevin answers. "Yes, I am. And of course I recognise a demon when I see one. I'm merely surprised to see one following around a former operative of the vague-yet-menacing government agency. Not exactly your usual style."

Now Alex shrugs, seeming unperturbed by the fact that Kevin – and therefore all of them – is obviously aware of who he really is. "You know, then? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You do have an agent in your midst." He glances at Tomas. "I know another company man when I see one."

Tomas gives a surprisingly similar shrug, looking just as unperturbed, and perhaps a touch amused. "There's a lot of that about," he says, easily.

Alex gives him an arched look. "Indeed. Well. To answer your friend's question: back in the early Sixties – before I became an archivist – I was liaison to Strexcorp for eighteen months," he says, calmly, and Kevin's shock at _this_ is palpable. "It didn't last. Turns out that boss of theirs wasn't fond of external involvement, and they didn't bother replacing me when I left. But whilst I was there I _did_ learn a thing or two about other planes of reality, which included the technicalities of demon-summoning. Imagine! Do you know how many laws of thermodynamics it violates?"

"I know, right?!" Carlos exclaims, before he can stop himself, and then promptly goes quiet.

"Well, well, where are my manners?" Alex goes on, unperturbed. "Everyone, this is my demon, Harrzivan. Harrzivan, these are the squishy interlopers I was telling you about."

The demon in question folds his arms and grins, revealing a mouth of pointed teeth. He's close to seven feet tall and humanoid-shaped, albeit with four eyes, four arms (which makes the folding just that little bit more horrifying) and slightly iridescent green skin.

"We're _not_ interlopers," Cecil says, in the dangerous voice he reserves for times like these (the one Carlos finds so very distracting). "We're _guests_ of the _leader_ of this town, who also happens to be _my brother_."

Alex sighs. "The _apparent_ leader, at least," he says, almost idly. "I had hoped to continue with the status quo indefinitely, but the appearance of your little rag-tag band does rather throw a spanner in the works. Such a shame. Disposing of you will, however, give me a perfect way to justify disposing of Hunter… and that deals with all of my problems at once. Neat. Efficient. Then maybe we can make an example of Harlan… that should leave the Acolytes suitably subdued. As for the old man… well, if you don't make this difficult, maybe I'll let him live…"

"You leave Earl alone!" Cecil exclaims at once.

"Don't you dare touch our dad!" Carlos and Tomas exclaim, in unison, at the same time.

" _Stop this ridiculous monologuing_!" Kevin exclaims, also at the same time.

They all fall silent and look at each other. "You want to go first?" Carlos says.

"No, no, I insist," Cecil replies, graciously.

"One of us should…" Kevin points out.

" _Enough of this_!" roars Steve Carlsberg, and holds out his hands. " _ **Porta inferni aperta! Exeunt Bharaeiogh**_!"

"…Oh no…" Carlos mutters.

There's a blinding flash of light, and Steve's demon appears, dressed in his usual spiked armour, amber eyes glittering as he looks around.

"Steve!" Bharaeiogh exclaims. "It has been some time! Am I to assume you and the puny mortals are in peril from… wait. Wait. _Harrzivan_?!"

" _Bharaeiogh_!" the other demon declares. "By the Dread Father, is that really you?!"

"Merciless Azatothoth, this is not happening…" Kevin murmurs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Seriously. Nine Infernal Planes, and fate had to pick two demons who know each other?!"

"Of course we know each other!" Bharaeiogh says. "Harry and I were roommates at college!"

"…I have so many questions right now…" Carlos manages, feeling very much in need of a lie-down and a nice cup of coffee.

"…Barry and Harry..?" Tomas mutters.

"I can hear you pronouncing it wrong, mortal!" Bharaeiogh shouts.

" _Everyone stop this nonsense at once_!" Alex roars.

The room goes silent.

"You know, this would be a lot easier if you just let me and Hunter talk in peace," Dana points out, unfazed.

"No!" Alex replies, starting to lose his cool. "There will be no talking, and no peace. Harrzivan! Kill them all!"

"Uh, no, no, I don't think I will," the demon replies.

"You're soul-bound to me," Alex reminds him. "You don't have a choice."

"I kinda do, though," Harrzivan insists.

"Not to inadvertently make things much worse for us," Kevin cuts in, "but you kinda _don't_. I mean, it's in the rules. A soul-bound demon has to obey their summoner whilst on this plane. Even if they don't want to."

Cecil facepalms. "So _now_ you're a stickler for the rules?"

"I'm always a stickler for the rules, Cecil, you know that," Kevin answers, calmly. "Except when I'm in open rebellion against something, which seems to happen to me a lot more than is reasonable."

"Ordinarily, I would agree with you," Harrzivan says. "However… I can't kill Bharaeiogh. We swore a blood-oath at college. And if his summoner and these other puny mortals are under his protection… hurting them would violate that oath."

"But," Bharaeiogh adds, " _I_ can't kill Harrzivan. Or _his_ summoner. So…"

"…We reach an impasse," Kevin surmises. "How very…"

"… _tedious_ ," Alex hisses.

"I was going to go with 'fascinating'," Kevin answers. "But I see your point."

"Maybe the best option here is to _let me sit down with Hunter_ ," Dana cuts in, smooth and level and mayoral and surprisingly reasonable for someone stuck in the midst of this insanity.

"Maybe the best option here is for the demons to sit this one out and for all of us to take on Alex," Tomas points out. "Because I think we might win."

"You are _welcome_ to _try_ ," Alex replies, brandishing that staff of his. "I didn't survive this long on brains alone."

"I think the best option here would be for _me_ to summon _Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty_ , and set him on anyone who continues to disagree with us!" Kevin interjects.

" _Actually_ ," comes a new voice, "I think the best option would be for everyone to calm down."

They all turn to see three figures approaching along the corridor: Hunter Palmer, with Earl Harlan at his side, and Atilio leading the way. It's the latter who's spoken, leading Carlos and Tomas to exchange a rather surprised look.

"…Dad?" Carlos manages.

"Quite," his father says. "Honestly. Must you people argue all the time? It can't be as much fun as you claim."

"Depends on the argument," Harrzivan remarks, giving Atilio a careful look.

Atilio, for his part, looks surprisingly unfazed by the demon – by either of the demons – and calmly folds his arms. "I think it's time to settle this like sensible adults."

"Precisely!" Bharaeiogh rumbles. "With a duel to the death!"

"No," Atilio replies, levelly. "With a _sensible conversation_."

"Which is precisely what _I_ have been saying this whole time," Dana points out, seeming pleased to have someone agreeing with her.

"Hold on," Tomas interjects. "Dad. What are you even doing here?"

"Saving you lot, it would seem," his father replies.

"But how did you get out?" Tomas pushes.

Atilio shrugs. "Air ducts. This place has loads of them. It's very old-school."

Tomas breaks into a delighted smile and punches the air. "Seriously? I am so proud of you right now."

"He turned up and rescued me," Earl cuts in. "And then, between us, we found Hunter."

"And they convinced me to come find you, Cecil," Hunter says. He sounds like a man with too much on his mind, but a man who is, perhaps, gradually working through it. He also happens to be standing rather close to Earl… or Earl is standing rather close to him, or…

…OK, that's interesting…

"And you as well, Mayor Cardinal," Hunter continues. "I think we need to talk."

"Dana, please," she says. "And you're right. We do."

Now Hunter turns to his vizier, who is looking angrier by the moment, and visibly struggling to control it. "Alex. We need to talk as well. And… OK, why is there a giant man with four arms and green skin?"

"That's Harrzivan," Alex replies, scowling. "He's my demon."

Hunter seems surprised. "Oh, they're actually real?"

"What do you think, mortal?" Harrzivan rumbles.

"…Good point," Hunter concedes. "Is this a long-standing arrangement?"

"No," Alex retorts. "It's reasonably new. I decided I needed additional backup in the event that _Earl_ here, and his little band of _dissidents_ –"

"Acolytes!" both Earl and Kevin correct, in unison.

"… _whatevers_ ," Alex goes on, "decided to up their game. Looks like I was right to be concerned. You can't trust a word they say, Mighty Huntokar. They're here to deceive you. To steal away the kingdom that is your birthright!"

"Are they?" Hunter answers. "Or are _you_? I think perhaps we need to have a proper discussion about this. All of us. I will speak for the Followers, and Earl will speak for the Acolytes. And Mayor Dana will speak for Night Vale."

"And what about _me_?" Alex nigh-on hisses.

"You can do what you're supposed to do," Hunter replies. " _Advise_ me."

Alex doesn't look pleased by this. Not in the slightest.

But the expression on his face is far from defeated.

***

It's a couple of hours later.

In the central throneroom of the Cathedral of Huntokar, a grand table has been set up, where the negotiations will take place. 'The Summit of Nebolgorod', people are already calling it, which sounds very impressive.

Or ominous. Maybe ominous. Carlos still isn't sure.

Before long, places are being taken. Hunter and Dana sit opposite each other, with Cecil at Dana's side – she having asked him to act as _her_ advisor – and Earl, oddly, at Hunter's. Alex sits a little apart, with Harrzivan loitering menacingly at his shoulder, though the effect is lost somewhat by the fact that Bharaeiogh is loitering at Steve's shoulder, occasionally grinning at his old roommate.

"How do we even do this?" Earl starts out. He looks a little out of his depth, but at the same time there's no sign of him attempting to back down.

"Start with what we know," Cecil suggests.

"That much is obvious," Alex cuts in, coldly. "Nebolgorod is at war with Night Vale, because Night Vale has been stealing buildings from this city."

"No," Dana insists. "A lot of strange things happen in Night Vale, yes, but we are not stealing your buildings."

"I want to believe you," Hunter says, just before Alex can speak again. "I truly do. But you have to understand how this looks to us. Our buildings disappear, a swathe of our city is devastated by the Overball, and then you send a white-robed demon to annihilate us."

"No one came to annihilate anything!" Carlos interjects, speaking without thinking. "I'm just a scientist! I only came to find out what was going on down here. I didn't know you were all tiny until I arrived."

"We are _not_ tiny!" Alex insists. " _You_ were _giant_."

"It's the same thing, Alex," Dana points out.

"This is hardly the time to argue semantics," Atilio cuts in, softly.

"And now," Hunter goes on, giving Atilio a look that suggests he agrees entirely, "I find out that my own brother is the one who sent the Overball – a person half this city thinks is a _god_ – and his childhood best friend is leading the Acolytes against me."

"Not against you," Earl says, suddenly, and the look in _his_ eyes is surprisingly complicated. "All I wanted to do was protect my friends. All I _ever_ wanted to do was protect my friends… and my kids…"

"Ah yes, your little band of scouts," Alex remarks, head on one side. "As if opposing us wasn't bad enough, now you insist upon corrupting the young as well."

"Corrupting..?" Earl starts out, his voice wavering, and then he leaps to his feet, staring Alex down. "I have been _protecting_ those kids, whose parents are _gone_ because of this whole mess. No one else looked out for them. No one in this city gave a damn about any of them. But _I_ did. I…"

He trails off, looking on the verge of tears. Steve reaches to grip his hand, visibly slipping into Angry Parent Mode. "You're right," he says, gently urging Earl to sit back down. "You did. You were stuck in this city, and you were alone too, and rather than try to leave you protected those kids. You did good, Earl. Don't let this guy or anyone else tell you otherwise. You did good."

"Steve's right," Cecil says, without a trace of his usual reluctance. "And you," he adds, eyes back on his own brother, "you should remember that."

Hunter nods. "I do remember it, Cecil," he answers, levelly. "I won't forget it."

"Night Vale never attacked you," Dana says. "We aren't stealing the buildings. The Overball was never meant to harm anyone. And Carlos was only exploring when he came here. He's a good man and a brilliant scientist and he would never try to hurt any of you."

"But he did," Alex cuts across, again, which makes Hunter look visibly annoyed. "The Demon of the Upperworld did great damage, as did the Overball. As does the continuing loss of our buildings. You can claim innocence all you like, but the facts are clear."

"Facts?" Kevin says, suddenly. He's been watching this whole exchange in silence, barely even moving, but as soon as he speaks, it's clear he means business. His whole tone has shifted, and Carlos can't suppress a shiver of worry… or the other thing. "You want to talk about facts, Vizier Vasquez? All right. Maybe we could start with the truth about _why_ the buildings are being stolen."

"We already know why," Alex insists, but he looks suddenly rattled. "Night Vale is doing it, to destroy us piece by piece."

Kevin shakes his head. "Now, now, we both know that's not true. But Hunter doesn't, does he? Hunter doesn't know where _you_ came from, or what you did."

"You say one more word…" Alex starts out, but Kevin cuts him off.

"I'm not afraid of you, Alex Vasquez," Kevin replies, calmly. "I've faced enemies that would make you _and_ your little Seventh-Planar run for the hills without looking back. No offence," he adds, now looking only at Harrzivan.

The four-armed demon shrugs. "I'll allow it."

"I could go off you," Alex says, shooting the demon a glower, though it doesn't seem to have the desired effect.

"Alex, what is he talking about?" Hunter cuts in.

Alex scowls. "More lies. You can't trust a word any of these Night Valeans say. Although _this_ one is from _Desert Bluffs_ , which makes him even _worse_."

Both Cecil and Carlos immediately leap to their feet, about to defend their boyfriend, but Kevin just gives them a calmly unfazed look before turning his dark eyes back on Alex, as the other two slowly sit down again.

"Yes," Kevin says, voice low and deadly. "I'd be very careful around me, if I were you. But I'm not lying, and neither are any of the others. The buildings aren't being stolen by Night Vale, Hunter. They're being stolen by the vague-yet-menacing government agency. The same agency Alex used to work for, and for whom he built – amongst other things – technology allowing travel between here and the Overworld. Technology that was retrofitted to allow the agency – and not Night Vale – to steal buildings from this city for years."

"…For what purpose?" Hunter whispers, looking like his world is slowly falling apart.

"The agency hid their archives in this city," Dana explains. "It was the ideal place. No one from Night Vale knew Nebolgorod existed back then, and even if they did, only Alex had the technology to come down here. Which he did, many times… until finally the agency turned on him. So he ran to the one place they wouldn't be able to follow, destroying the technology in the process and leaving them with only part of it."

"You… is this true?" Hunter says, staring at Alex.

Alex sighs. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters! I've trusted your every word for years! Decades! And now I find out you've been lying to me this whole time?"

"I never lied. I merely… controlled the flow of truth."

"It's the same thing!" Hunter exclaims.

Alex rolls his eyes. "I thought we weren't allowed to argue semantics..?"

"Enough of this," Hunter says, and Carlos can't help feeling sorry for the man now. "You betrayed me. I put this city under martial law because you told me… because you _lied to me_!"

"Oh, grow up," Alex retorts, coldly. " _I_ put this city under martial law. I rallied the Followers against those heretical Acolytes. And I won't let a few smart-talking interlopers destroy decades of _my_ work!"

He leaps to his feet, brandishing the golden staff he's kept at his side all this time. " _Posledovateli_! _Atakuyem_!"

Carlos only has a second to muse on what this might mean – and certainly no time to ask Kevin to translate – because at this point the doors burst open and dozens of those red-and-purple-clad guards start pouring into the room. They quickly form a perimeter, all of them pointing gleaming polearms in towards the people around the table.

"Alex?" Hunter exclaims, renewed hurt in his eyes, as everyone leaps to their feet. "What is this?"

"This is me doing what I should have done _years_ ago," Alex hisses. "I'm the one who made Nebolgorod strong. I should rule it. So you and your new Night Valean friends will die here… but of course I'll tell the people it was an attack by the Acolytes that led to the death of Huntokar, the _Mighty_ , the _Benevolent_. And with that ringing in their ears, not one of them will oppose me when I wipe out every last Acolyte, and ascend to the throne in the name of my poor, murdered lord. And _then_? Then Night Vale will feel the full force of our wrath!"

"Your tiny, tiny wrath…" Kevin cuts in, smirking. "I think not. Stand down now."

Alex laughs. "You really think I'm afraid of _you_?"

"I think you should be," Kevin says.

And that's when all hell breaks loose. Alex howls something else in Old Nebolgorodian – something Carlos can't even catch, never mind understand – and launches himself towards Hunter. At the same time, Steve, Earl and Tomas all immediately turn and go for the closest guards, each obviously intent on getting hold of one of those polearms so they can fight back.

"Dad!" Carlos shouts in alarm, trying to pull Atilio out of the way of the worst of the fighting, and – thankfully – his father seems very much in favour of the action.

Kevin, meanwhile, grabs Cecil's arm. "I need to summon Azzie. Keep Dana safe."

"You be careful," Cecil insists, before moving to pull Dana out of the worst of the fighting. By this point, he's blocked from getting close to where Carlos and Atilio are trying to take cover, but still manages to get clear of where Tomas – now armed – is taking on three of the Followers at once.

Moving away from the table, Kevin holds up his hands and starts to chant, which definitely gets the attention of several of the guards. Some move in closer, but rather more of them seem scared, and no one is brave enough to get near enough to do anything.

Off to the side, Bharaeiogh and Harrzivan extricate themselves from the fighting, both clearly set on not getting involved. Which, in the long run, is probably for the best.

In the midst of it all, there's a bright flash of light, and Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty appears, giving a threatening stretch of his wings before looking down at Kevin.

"…Are we _tiny_ right now?" the demon asks.

"You can tell?" Kevin replies.

Azatothoth shrugs. "Of course I can tell."

"So the question was rhetorical?"

" _Kevin_!"

Kevin shrugs. "Sorry. Bit of a tricky afternoon, all things considered. I'll explain later. Right now, if you could encourage all these nice people in red and purple to stop attacking us, I'd be _super_ grateful. Also the guy with the big golden staff. He's being _exceptionally_ rude to people I like."

"Dread Father forbid…" Azatothoth murmurs, and then seems to brighten as he turns to start dissuading the Followers. Forcefully.

The intervention is a timely one, too, because – despite everyone's best efforts – they're in danger of being overwhelmed. Kevin goes for the nearest guard, and soon he's got hold of a polearm of his own… and apparently his combat skills don't just stop at knives.

And Carlos needs to stop watching. It isn't easy, though.

All of a sudden, a shout of alarm cuts through the chaos, and Carlos turns in time to see one of the guards charging at Cecil and Dana. There's a brief scuffle, which ends with Cecil being pushed squarely out of the way, before the guard closes in on Dana. The mayor stares him down, fearlessly… at least until the guard draws a knife from his belt.

" _Vanessa_!" Kevin cries out, all restraint seemingly lost as he hurtles over in time to smack the guard roughly in the head with his appropriated polearm, before moving right in front of Dana as two more guards close in, drawing knives of their own. "Stay back!" he insists, sweeping the staff out in front of him.

"I don't think so," Alex Vasquez says, stalking over like a tiger moving in for the kill. "This is where it ends, for you and your precious mayor."

He and Kevin lock staves, both trying to knock the other back, but it's clear that Alex is _very_ good at this, whereas Kevin is struggling to keep the guards from cutting around him to get at Dana.

"Azzie!" he shouts, and merciful Einstein, there's real fear in his voice. "Azzie, help!"

But the demon is on the far side of the room, grappling with a whole swarm of guards, and whilst he seems to be doing just fine, getting past them quickly seems out of the question. Not that this stops him trying, growling alarmingly as he starts cutting through the guards with that spiked sword of his, trying to reach his summoner.

And that's when the staff goes flying from Kevin's hand, and Alex points his own squarely at Kevin's chest. "You should have stayed in the Bluffs," the Vizier sneers.

"I'll die before I let you hurt our mayor," Kevin retorts.

Alex smirks. "That's the idea," he says.

Horror grips Carlos' heart, and suddenly it's happening again, it's all happening again, and this time there's nothing any of them can do, and the realisation bites like ice.

And then, from out of nowhere, the whole room fills with vibrant purple light, and it takes Carlos' terrified mind a second to process that the source of it all is _Cecil_. He's on his feet again, hands held out and up, and his eyes are glowing. The air itself seems to shake, every sound thunderous in the sudden stillness.

Everyone freezes, staring in shock as Cecil advances slowly on Alex. "Stay away from my double," he says, his voice resonant like unreal time itself. "Stay away from our mayor. _And stay away from my brother_."

He throws his hands forward, and more of that bright, purple light courses towards Alex, knocking him squarely to the ground and sending him skidding across the polished floor on his back, staff skittering out of reach. For a long, long moment Cecil looks down at him, like a man who could remake the universe and everything in it, and then the light fades all at once, and Cecil staggers.

Carlos races over, catching his boyfriend before he can fall too far, hand on his chest to keep him upright. He can feel how fast Cecil's heart is racing, although he's sure his own must be going just as quickly right now.

The room is silent and still, and even Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty seems stunned by what he's just witnessed. And then, without a word, all of the guards throw down their weapons and hold up their hands.

"Y-you…" Kevin manages. He's gone white, his eyes wide, and he's obviously in shock. "You… I…"

"What just happened?" Carlos says, unable to keep the emotion out of his own voice.

" _Interloper_!" Alex hisses, pulling himself to his feet.

"Enough of this," Hunter declares. He's close to where Earl and Steve are, and Carlos realises the two of them must have been protecting him during the fighting. "Guards… you have been deceived by Vizier Vasquez. Whatever he has told you is a lie. I am Huntokar, and I demand your allegiance."

"You have it," one of the guards manages, voice hollow with fear. "You… and the Sender of the Overball…"

None of them can stop looking at Cecil.

"Get the Vizier out of here," Hunter orders. "And secure this room. We are _supposed_ to be having a peaceful discussion."

"This isn't over, Hunter!" Alex yells, as he's pulled out of the main door by the terrified-looking guards. "This isn't over!"

"You're right," Hunter replies. "It isn't. And when it is, I think relations with Night Vale will be quite different."

The slamming of the door prevents them hearing Alex's reply to this, though judging by the look in his eyes, it wasn't going to be a friendly one.

Silence prevails when the guards are gone. No one seems fully able to engage with what's just happened, and it takes a moment before any of them speaks again.

"You saved my life," Dana says to Kevin, softly, finally moving from where he's been sheltering her this whole time.

"You saved mine, once," Kevin reminds her, though his voice is anything but level and he keeps looking over at Cecil.

"You… called me Vanessa. She… she was my double?"

Kevin nods, and suddenly Carlos is aware of all those things the man hasn't told them yet.

"What happened to her?"

"She died," Kevin says, softly.

"…Does anyone know what I just did?" Cecil manages. He's still leaning on Carlos, blue eyes wide with alarm. "I… one minute I was on the ground, and the next… I…"

"You channelled raw planar energy," Kevin replies, voice still shaking, and seriously, is he going to blink sometime soon? "I… I mean, I knew you must have more planar power than you were aware of, and when we summoned Huntokar earlier I could _feel_ it in you, but… I didn't realise… I…"

"If Kevin's losing coherence, it must be something big," Steve points out, concern in his eyes.

"Big?" Kevin manages. "You have no idea. I've only ever seen one other human with that kind of ability, and she… she was one of the most powerful summoners who ever _lived_."

Cecil goes pale. "But… but I'm not…"

"Remember what Huntokar said?" Dana says. "'You are more powerful than you realise'."

"He is," Azatothoth rumbles, pacing a little closer. "I could feel it from the first time we met. Kevin's powerful, no doubt about it, but Cecil… the planes themselves bend around Cecil."

"But… but I don't want… I'm just a radio host!" Cecil insists.

"You were never just a radio host," Kevin tells him, softly. "And neither was I. And now… Cecil… the things you could do… I don't know whether to hug you or pledge my allegiance to you… even though you already had it, of course, I meant again, I…"

One arm still around Carlos, Cecil holds out the other. "Come here," he says, and Kevin goes without hesitation, letting Cecil pull him in close. "Give me time," he whispers, as the three of them curl into a tight hug.

"Anything," Kevin murmurs in reply.

"Are we interrupting something?" comes an unfamiliar voice from the doorway.

They all turn in time to see not one but two newcomers looking over at them: two men, in identical dark suits, with identical haircuts, wearing identical sunglasses (despite being indoors and underground). One of the men is not tall and the other is not short.

Both, in fact, are precisely the same height.

And Tomas smiles at the sight of them. "Oh, hey guys," he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation Notes:
> 
> _Posledovateli_ \- Followers
> 
>  _Atakuyem_ \- Attack
> 
> ***
> 
> I've spent plenty of time exploring what it means for Kevin to be Cecil's double, so I figured it was high-time I delved more deeply into what it means for Cecil to be Kevin's double. Needless to say, I plan on having some fun with this! Plus, I know a few of you have said you'd like to see some kind of training scene involving Cecil, Kevin and summonings, so this should set that up perfectly. Not yet sure whether it's going to appear at the end of this fic or the start of the next, but one way or another it's going to happen!
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: The truth, it seems, is out there. Or here. Or something. Or subjective. Either way, it's time for things to start changing in Nebolgorod... and that's going to bring fresh developments of its own.


	10. Strike Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations, mortals! I return, and I bring another chapter with me: in which there is a Big Damn Discussion, followed by precisely what this fic needs a little more of. Smut! ;-)

**Strike Out**

_To roll three strikes in the final frame of the game; the maximum score, the best outcome._

***

In the silence that prevails, the two dark-suited men exchange a glance. "He's drawing attention to us," says the man who is not short.

"I see that," replies the man who is not tall, perhaps a little dryly.

"We _all_ see _you_ ," Steve points out, his own tone halfway between delighted and concerned.

"Indeed you do," the man who is not tall concedes. "Incisive as always, Mr Carlsberg."

The use of his name – without any introductions – makes Steve flinch, although clearly not in surprise.

"You know these men?" Hunter now asks, taking a step forward but glancing back at his guests.

Still standing with one arm around Carlos and the other around Kevin, Cecil nods. "Not personally, but I have… heard of them." His tone is careful as he speaks, and he seems almost as wary as Steve.

"I know them," Tomas points out, brightly. "Everyone, this is–"

"Don't use our names!" the man who is not short interrupts, tone sharp with alarm.

Tomas holds up his hands. "Hey, I'm not an idiot, chill. All I was going to say is: Everyone, this is the agency's permanent presence in Night Vale. You've probably never seen them before, but you can bet they've seen you before!"

"I've seen them before," Carlos can't help pointing out. "The very first day I arrived in town. I gave a talk at City Hall, all about the science I was planning to do, and those two were standing at the back."

"You noticed us?" says the man who is not short.

"Uh… yes?" Carlos replies, surprised by the question. "I mean… you walk around in dark suits and sunglasses. You're not exactly inconspicuous."

"We're… not?" says the man who is not tall.

"Well… no," Carlos tells them, wondering if they actually haven't noticed or are just implying that they haven't.

"Oh," says the man who is not tall, though the emotion is gone from his voice, and it's almost as though he's mimicking a normal human reaction, as opposed to actually having one. "Well. That isn't why we're here."

"Why _are_ you here?" Tomas pushes. "This was my mission."

"Indeed," the man who is not tall remarks, and all of a sudden there's a touch of snark in his tone. "And just how is that going for you?"

"Pretty well, actually," Tomas replies, brightly. "I made contact with my brother, discussed his initial foray into Nebolgorod, and then I became part of the resistance movement which is struggling for equality within the city, as a means of both carrying out further exploration and also helping my brother, who I happen to care about deeply despite some past difficulties between us. And the whole thing paid off. Turns out the enemy wasn't Hunter, here, who is ruling the city, but his former advisor." A beat. A beat and a slightly smug smile. "Alex Vasquez."

There's a matching intake of breath from both of the dark-suited, equally-heighted men. "Alex Vasquez?" the man who is not short repeats. " _The_ Alex Vasquez? The agency's most wanted?"

Tomas grins. "That's him. When the agency turned on him, he escaped to the one place he thought he'd never be found. The one place he believed he couldn't be followed. And, for a long time, he was right. Speaking of which… how did the two of you get down here?"

The two men exchange another of their looks. "The same way you did," the man who is not tall answers. "In a Night Valean building that was stolen by the Nebolgorodians. When we realised they had started to target major locations – City Hall being the first – we calculated which building they would take next, and sequestered it. And, of course, we were right."

Everyone else – with the exception of Hunter – now exchanges a series of looks of their own, alarmed by the news. "Another building was taken?" Cecil says. "Which one?"

Hunter has the good grace to sound guilty as he replies. "It was Alex's idea. Before I knew… before I found out he'd been lying to me all this time. He said we needed to up the ante. Said Night Vale's City Hall hadn't been enough. So… we took something else, just a few hours ago. The radio station."

"What?!" Cecil exclaims, horror in his eyes. "So… everyone who works there…"

"No one was in the building besides the two of us," says the man who is not short, calmly. "We told you, we had already sequestered it. All the employees were sent home."

This seems to relax Cecil – and, indeed, Kevin – somewhat, but not entirely.

"You still haven't answered Tomas' question," Hunter points out. "Why are you here?"

The two men exchange another of their looks. "That's classified," says the man who is not tall.

"I see," Hunter replies, pointedly. "I was led to believe you were looking for your agency's hidden archives. Archives that were placed within _my_ city, without the consent of anyone here. Or are you in Nebolgorod for a different reason?"

There's an awkward little silence. "…You know about the archives?" says the man who is not short.

"It would appear that I do," Hunter answers, dryly. "Perhaps you should drop the obfuscation and we can all have a sensible conversation about this. Recent events have proven them far more useful than the alternative."

"…We… may be amenable to that," the man who is not tall concedes.

"Well, then," says Hunter, with a nod. "Let's get to it."

***

They all settle at the table again. Everyone gives the two dark-suited men a wide berth, though neither of them seems to mind, or – for that matter – notice.

"Allow me to be blunt," Hunter starts out, eyes on his latest pair of unexpected guests. "We want our buildings back. All of them. Every last one. No exceptions."

"Impossible," replies the man who is not tall.

"This isn't going to work out if you insist on being unreasonable," Dana says.

"I'm not being unreasonable," the man who is not tall counters.

"He isn't," the man who is not short concurs. "He's being literal. It is impossible for us to return the buildings. We're only able to take them. We don't have the means to give them back."

"And I doubt Alex is going to be forthcoming about how to do it," Tomas says.

Kevin headtilts. "I could have a little word with him…"

" _No_ , Kevin," Cecil answers at once and Kevin – unusually – doesn't push the matter.

"There is another solution," Carlos says. "The tech. Some of it exists down here, too. If I take a look at it–"

"…maybe with me to help!" Tomas cuts in, excitedly.

"…maybe with Tomas to help," Carlos concedes, "I'm sure I – we – can work out a way to modify it. To get it to do what Alex's original tech did. Two-way teleportation."

"You could do that?" Hunter says, looking stunned.

"Carlos is a _brilliant_ scientist," Cecil enthuses. "And I'm sure Tomas is brilliant as well. The two of them together… if they can't do it, it can't be done. And we already know it _can_ be done."

Carlos can't help blushing a little at that, reaching to grip Cecil's hand.

The two dark-suited men, meanwhile, exchange a look. "Here are our terms," says the man who is not tall. "If you are able to retrofit the technology, we will arrange for the buildings currently in our possession to be brought to a location from which you will be able to teleport them back into this city."

" _All_ of them?" Hunter pushes.

The man who is not tall nods. "All of them. We will do this in return for two things. One: you will permit us to locate our archives in this city and remove them, ensuring _no one_ but myself and my colleague has access to them."

Hunter nods as well. "Acceptable."

"And two," the man who is not short goes on, "you will give us Alex Vasquez."

"No," Hunter says, at once. "Absolutely not. Alex will stand trial here."

"He is the agency's most-wanted," the man who is not tall says, flatly. "Giving him to us is non-negotiable. Although I will give you my word that his actions here will be considered alongside his other crimes. He will not escape justice for them."

"Or for anything," the man who is not short adds.

His colleague nods again. "No one ever does."

There's a moment's silence.

"All right," Hunter agrees, though he doesn't look happy about it. "I'll allow it. But you had better make sure I get back _every_ building your people stole from my city."

"You will," says the man who is not tall. "We are always thorough. This is no exception."

"What about Night Vale?" Dana asks, level and mayoral.

Hunter meets her eyes. "It's clear to me now that you were never our enemy. It may take a little time for the people of Nebolgorod to come to understand the same… but they will. And there will be peace between our two cities."

"I… have an idea about that," Cecil says. He still looks a little shaken, but there's fresh determination in his expression. "If Carlos and Tomas need time to retrofit the shrinking technology… I think it's fair to say we'll be here a few days."

"A few days?" Carlos repeats. "It must have taken Alex years to come up with all this. A few days is somewhat optimistic!"

"Maybe… but you're a _brilliant_ scientist," Cecil reminds him, which makes Carlos blush all over again. "And there's _two_ of you. And… whilst you're working on the tech, I think Kevin and I can help Hunter heal things here in Nebolgorod."

"You can?" his brother says. "How?"

"How else?" Cecil answers, smiling. "Community radio."

"Oh, Cecil, you're brilliant too!" Kevin exclaims, brightly. "Of course."

"The radio station," Steve says, understanding. "Yes. Yes. Cecil, that _is_ a good idea."

Cecil does the usual face he makes when Steve is nice to him. "Yes… well. I have them occasionally," he says, now blushing slightly himself. "Kevin and I can broadcast to the people of Nebolgorod. And… we can broadcast the two of you, as well. Nebolgorod's ruler, and Night Vale's mayor, united and allied. How does that sound?"

Dana and Hunter exchange a look, and both of them are smiling now. "It sounds like a plan, Cecil," Dana answers.

"Earl should be a part of it as well," Hunter adds, now looking over at the man in question. "We need unity with Night Vale, yes, but we need unity within ourselves as well. The Followers and the Acolytes must be able to co-exist."

"My thoughts exactly," Cecil replies. "Give us a few days of interviews on-air… and I believe we can change people's minds about this. We can make it right."

"Amazing how easy all this is to fix, when you just stop and think," Atilio remarks, with a twinkle in his eye.

"I'm… going to tell everyone the truth," Hunter now says. There's a flicker of hesitation in his voice, but just as much determination to balance it out. "I'm going to admit I'm not the real Huntokar."

Earl headtilts. "You think people will still follow you, once they know?"

"I hope so," Hunter replies. "I… want them to understand that I've always had Nebolgorod's best interests at heart. That I still do."

"Plus you can tell them that the _real_ Huntokar sort of gave you his seal of approval," Kevin chips in.

Hunter stares at him. "Wait, what?"

Kevin shrugs. "It's a slight extrapolation, sure, but we _did_ summon Huntokar earlier and he _could_ have come straight here to eviscerate you if he wanted. But he didn't. So there's an argument for saying he wanted to give you a chance to prove yourself. Which you did."

"That's good logic," remarks the man who is not tall.

"See?" Kevin says, brightly. "Even the government agent agrees with me."

"That isn't a _positive_ thing," Steve insists, his own expression wary.

"Sure it is, right now," Kevin replies.

"So… you're going to stay here in Nebolgorod?" Cecil says to Hunter, looking conflicted.

Hunter nods. "I am. But… if Carlos and Tomas can come up with a retrofit for the shrinking technology, they must be able to come up with a permanent two-way portal. Something we could use to stay in touch. To visit each other, even."

"Plus our phones totally work down here," Dana adds. "So long as they're charged. We'll be able to have regular contact… politically and personally."

"I… guess that's OK," Cecil replies. "I just don't want to lose you, Hunter, especially so soon after finding you."

"Nor do I," Hunter agrees, with a smile.

"I'm going to stay here too," Earl adds, after a deep breath. "I need to. Even if all my kids get their parents back – and we can't say for sure that they will, given how long some of them have been gone – I don't want to lose them. I'm the Scoutmaster of Nebolgorod now… and I want to stay that way."

"I was hoping you would," Hunter replies, with an odd little tone to his voice.

There's a moment's pause, as the impact of all their decisions starts to sink in.

"You have forgotten one thing though," rumbles a voice from the side.

They all turn – Steve cringing noticeably – to look over at where the three demons are watching them with what can only be described as bemused expressions on their faces. Well. Bharaeiogh and Harrzivan look bemused, whilst Azatothoth looks mostly bored, although the fact he hasn't interrupted is telling in itself.

It's Bharaeiogh himself who's spoken, and he gestures to his old roommate once he has the attention of the humans. "Harrzivan," he says. "What happens to Harrzivan?"

"Why are you even still here?" Kevin asks, carefully, looking the four-armed demon in the eyes. Some of the eyes. "Your summoner was dragged off ages ago. Why didn't you go with him?"

Harrzivan shrugs. "I can't stand that guy. I put him on my books because I needed more soul-binds – I'm never going to get promoted otherwise – but… Dread Father, he's insufferable. And he's rude to me. A guy who takes so many lessons from the Big Book of Villain Clichés really ought to be more polite to his soul-bound demon!"

"Harry has a point," Azatothoth rumbles. "I wouldn't put up with a guy like that."

"Awww, I knew you cared really!" Kevin exclaims. "Even right at the start!"

Azatothoth rolls his eyes. "Kevin, I put up with _you_ because your boss was a highborn First-Planar and you just didn't know it."

"Yes, but you stuck with me later on. Even once I was off Strex's books."

"…Yes, I did," Azatothoth concedes. "Though I still don't know why."

"Because you like me!" Kevin reasons. "Now. What are we going to do about poor, underappreciated Harry?"

"I can apply to my bosses to cancel the soul-bind to Alex," Harrzivan says. "But it's frowned upon. Everyone knows it's bad form to break a soul-bind if both parties are still alive."

"I don't know how things are on the Seventh," Azatothoth starts out, "but on the Fourth, the best way to get away with something like that would be to turn up with an alternative soul-bind to take the place of the broken one. That way, the overall number doesn't drop – you know how the bosses get about _performance statistics_ – and it's obvious you've made an effort. Bonus points if the new person you're bound to is more important or more powerful than the one you've broken with."

All eyes go immediately to Cecil.

"…No," Cecil says, looking alarmed again. "No. I… I've never wanted…"

"…What about me?" Hunter interrupts, softly.

Now all eyes go to the older Palmer.

"Wait, _you_ want a soul-bind?" Kevin says, sounding surprised.

"I've never considered it before, but… it could be helpful," Hunter reasons. "When all this is over, I have to keep ruling this place, and I'm going to be honest about the fact that I'm not actually Huntokar. So… having a genuine demon to impress people with wouldn't be so bad…"

Harrzivan appears to consider this for a moment, and then he nods. "That would be acceptable."

"Perfect!" Kevin enthuses, clapping his hands together.

"…Did we just work out how to fix all this?" Steve wonders aloud.

"Yes," Dana replies, with a smile. "I think maybe we did."

***

It's later on.

Work is expected to begin tomorrow on the shrinking technology. Carlos is cautiously optimistic about it (Tomas is openly optimistic, but that's his twin all round). The two men from the vague-yet-menacing government agency have disappeared off, in search of their missing archives, promising to return once they're found.

Hunter, Dana and Earl are all still down in the throneroom, discussing some of the minutiae of the peace deal, whilst Steve, Atilio and Tomas have all headed off for some well-earned sleep. Tomas has even been persuaded not to travel by ventilation duct on this occasion, even 'for old time's sake'.

And Carlos finally paces back into the room he and his chiral boyfriends left – via said ventilation ducts – what feels like ages ago. It's odd to be back here, given that last time they were basically prisoners, whereas now they are very much guests.

He doesn't have long to muse on any of this, though, because there's a more immediate issue in hand.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kevin says to Cecil, soft and careful.

Cecil himself has paced deepest into the room, and at Kevin's words he sinks down to sit on the edge of the bed, right where he was mere hours ago.

"I wouldn't even know where to start," Cecil answers. "I'm still trying to deal with the fact that I have a _brother_ , and then… then that whole thing with…"

He puts his head in his hands for a moment, and Kevin goes over to him at once, dropping to his knees in front of Cecil and gently making him lift his head again, taking his hands between his own.

"Cecil," he says. "It's going to be all right. More than all right. What happened isn't bad… on the contrary. It's _incredible_."

"I didn't even know what was happening," Cecil says, voice barely more than a whisper. "It all just… _did_ , and…"

"You realise you saved my life, don't you?" Kevin asks, gently. "Dana's too, and likely most of the other people in that room as well, in the slightly longer run."

"I know that… and I'm glad, of course I am, how could I not be? But…"

" _Cecil_ ," Kevin breathes, looking up at him, that strange edge of fervour back in his tone. "Cecil. What you did was nothing short of amazing. What you can _do_ … what you can learn… I know it must feel overwhelming now. I know. But I'll help you. Whatever it takes, whatever you need. I will. You know I will. I told you… anything. _Anything_."

Carlos can barely move, so caught by what he's witnessing: by the sight of the other two right now. He's so used to seeing Kevin in control, but seeing him like this, on his knees, all but pledging himself to Cecil like a man possessed… it's mind-blowingly hot in a way Carlos was not remotely prepared for.

"Earlier," Cecil starts out, his voice still shaking a little, "you said… you said you'd only ever seen one other person who could… you know, who could do things like this. Was that..?"

"Susan Hartley," Kevin answers, his own voice suddenly level and careful. "Wife of my former employer. The one who brought the original Strexcorp Management Board to this plane in the first place."

Cecil goes white. "But… you're saying I could summon demons from the _First_ Infernal Plane?"

"You already did," Kevin reminds him. "Huntokar. We did it together, but I realise now you might well have been able to do it on your own, even then. With practice… with… with guidance… Cecil, I don't even know the limits of what you could do. I…"

He bows his head at that, seeming as overcome with emotion as Cecil is, and Carlos is not entirely sure how he himself is still standing at this point.

"Kevin," Cecil breathes, hand on the side of his double's face, gently making him look up again. "Help me make sense of this. I know it will take time, but… I can do it. If you help me."

" _Anything_ ," Kevin says, once more.

Cecil pulls him in closer at that and kisses him; kisses him firmly and desperately, with a possessive edge that seems to make Kevin melt against him all the more. Carlos can't help a little gasp of delight at the sight of them, which clearly gets their attention, although they wait until the kiss breaks before reacting.

When they do, it's Cecil who turns and looks over at Carlos, holding out a hand. "Come here, you," he says, softly, and Carlos goes at once, settling on the bed at Cecil's side and letting Cecil pull him in to kiss him too. Kevin takes hold of one of his hands at the same time – so he's holding one of Cecil's and one of Carlos' – and when the second kiss breaks he stares up at the pair of them with a look in his eyes like never before.

"You know I'd do anything for you, don't you?" he says, softly, and Carlos is rapidly going out of his mind with how hot this is. "Both of you."

"We know," Carlos tells him, gripping his hand tighter. "You've proven it more than enough."

"…Let me prove it again?" Kevin asks, and it's clear that this time he doesn't intend to prove it by saving them from untold danger. " _Please_."

Well. This is not exactly the kind of offer you say no to. Especially when Kevin is staring at the pair of you precisely the way he is right now. There's a moment of perfect anticipation, and then all three of them move at once, scrambling up onto the bed whilst pulling clothes off each other with the kind of efficiency that only excessive practice can allow.

And, before Carlos even knows it, they're all naked and he and Cecil are both on their backs, Kevin kneeling between them, stroking them both. The sudden, desperate contact is delicious and wonderful, and it ratchets up the need in Carlos' chest all at once.

Kevin leans in to kiss them one at a time, getting a gasp from Carlos and then a very appreciative little moan from Cecil for his trouble.

"Is that good?" Kevin murmurs against Cecil's lips, whilst Carlos watches raptly.

"You know it is," Cecil replies.

"I'm glad. I meant what I said before. I'd do anything for you. For both of you. Fight for you… die for you…"

"…live for us?" Cecil cuts in, and Kevin smiles.

"Especially that," he answers in a whisper. " _Especially_ that."

"What about..?" Cecil starts off, with a wicked little edge to his tone, "…driving Carlos out of his mind?"

Kevin smiles more, which gets dialled right up to eleven when Cecil adds, " _Without_ taking your other hand off me."

" _Anything_ ," Kevin breathes, looking delighted, and he presses in to kiss Cecil again before turning to Carlos, and instantly starting to stroke him rather faster and harder… whilst still stroking Cecil slowly… and OK, now the man is showing off.

And Carlos loves it.

" _Please_ ," he gasps, half in approval of the idea and half in simple need.

"Shhhh," Kevin murmurs, tone taking on that seductive edge that really _will_ drive Carlos out of his mind, even without all the very lovely attention to back it up. "Just relax, and let me make you feel amazing…"

Carlos can't stop a little moan slipping his lips at that, the world starting to go somewhat hazy as the pleasure builds, physically and mentally.

"Good," Cecil breathes, "good." And how he's getting his voice to do _that_ , Carlos isn't sure, but he should do it more often. A lot more often. " _Harder_."

It's difficult to tell what Carlos finds himself enjoying the most about this: the way that Kevin instantly speeds up, or the unashamed gasp of delight the man makes at the instruction.

This is new. And interesting. Although, right now, all Carlos can focus properly on is the surging ocean of need rapidly overwhelming him.

" _Yes_ …" he gasps. "Yes… please… like that… _oh_ …"

"That's it," Cecil says to Kevin. " _Undo him_."

And _oh_ , but he does. They both do. Kevin with his clever, clever hand, and Cecil with that calm certainty in his voice, and within little more than a moment Carlos is crying out as he comes, pleasure ripping through him sharp and quick and so very wonderful. And even as the last waves start to fade, Kevin keeps stroking him slowly, not leaving him bereft, letting him drift on the feelings.

" _Perfect_ ," Cecil says, warm and approving. "Now… I want you to straddle my hips, so you can stroke _us_ both."

And Carlos can only be glad he's already come, because otherwise those words, that _tone_ , would probably have undone him on the spot. He manages to roll onto his side so he can watch as Kevin climbs up onto Cecil, knees either side of his hips, allowing him to lean in and start stroking himself and Cecil at the same time.

" _Oh_ , that feels good," Cecil murmurs, putting a hand up to rest on Kevin's cheek. "So good. Don't you stop…"

"I won't," Kevin replies, leaning in closer, and right now he looks so caught by his double's words that it seems as though he's only _breathing_ because Cecil hasn't told him he can't. "I promise."

"Tell me again," Cecil pushes, gently. "Tell me again that you'd do anything for me. For _us_."

"I would," Kevin breathes, without hesitation, his black eyes seeming to go darker still at the admission. "I'd do anything. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you safe. Anything… to prove that I'm _yours_."

All of a sudden, Cecil takes hold of Kevin and flips them so that Kevin is now on his back, with Cecil on top of him, before pushing a hand down between them and locking his fingers with Kevin's so they're _both_ stroking them both. And Carlos sort of hopes the two of them don't notice the unashamed _squeak_ of delight he himself makes at the sight of that.

Because. Wow.

"You are," Cecil tells Kevin, a flicker in his eyes that's reminiscent of how he looked earlier, when he channelled all that raw power. "You're ours."

He leans in closer, so their lips are only a breath apart. " _And you love it_."

And Kevin just _breaks_ at that, gasping like he's been struck squarely in the chest, caught on the lip of a precipice right before he comes hard and fast. The sight and the feeling clearly undoes Cecil as well, and he follows Kevin right over the edge within seconds, gasping his name and holding him close until they both finally, blissfully, go still.

It really is one of the hottest things Carlos has ever seen. And, with these two, the bar is set pretty high to begin with.

After a moment, Cecil rolls Kevin gently onto his side and pulls him in against his chest, leaving Carlos to spoon in behind Kevin, arm wrapped tightly around him.

"…That was good," the scientist manages.

"More than good," Cecil concurs, reaching to grip his hand before nuzzling gently at Kevin's jaw. "Are you all right?"

"…More than all right…" Kevin breathes, sounding more than a little out of his head. And of course Carlos knows how good _that_ can feel. He's just slightly surprised to find Kevin on this side of it.

"I'm glad," Cecil says, and kisses his double softly. "Just rest, now. We have you. And don't forget… we'd do anything for you too."

Kevin makes a happy sound at that and snuggles in tighter.

And Carlos can't help a smile as he, too, curls in more. It's been a difficult couple of days. But finally, finally… things are looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reckon there's probably two more chapters left to come in this fic, depending on how long it takes me to wrap the plot up. I'm most of the way through the next chapter already (this one got held up whilst I tried to decide how the smut was going to play out), and then I just need to finish it all off and we will be done. Done! (Then we can get started on Part Four. For complex technical reasons, I already have two and a half chapters of that one written. Let's just say you'll be glad to get them all at once...)
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityerse: Summoning 101, chiral-style. Plus, a special guest appearance...


	11. Messenger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!! Yes, I'm back again already. Ha-hah! We come at last to the penultimate chapter of this part, which includes a sequence that I know a few of you were hoping for.
> 
> Enjoy! :-)

**Messenger**

_A pin that falls across the width of the pin deck and knocks down one or more others, resulting in a strike; a small action with larger consequences, the start of something big._

***

The work begins at pace the next day.

Carlos and Tomas are taken to see the building-stealing technology that the people of Nebolgorod have been using and, when they first enter the vast space it's held in, all Carlos can do is stand and stare.

"…This might take a while," he murmurs, looking up at what has to be a four-storey construction, all metal and pipes and humming control consoles.

"Nah, we'll be done by lunchtime," Tomas tells him, clapping his twin on the shoulder.

They certainly aren't done by lunchtime, although – in Tomas' defence – they do have rather more of an idea of how this insane piece of technology works than Carlos expected first thing in the morning.

'Insane' is a fair assessment, and it's a while before Carlos can wrap his head around the thought processes that must have been needed to come up with it, which – for a scientist – is quite something.

But, by the afternoon, they are at least making progress and, even more significantly, they're working rather well together. Carlos finds himself strangely pleased by this. It's been too long since he worked with his brother on anything, and it's something of a relief to discover that they can still do it.

And something of a surprise to realise just how much he's missed it.

"…What are you going to do when all this is over?" he asks, cautiously, whilst they're working on taking one of the consoles apart to figure out just how it handles the amount of energy allegedly flowing through it when the system is live.

Tomas looks over at him. "Whatever the agency sends me to do next," he answers. "I know it's still hard for you to accept, but… I love my job. I do. I'm never bored, I'm frequently challenged, and I get to meet plenty of interesting people."

"But… isn't it dangerous?"

"Sure it is, sometimes," Tomas answers, easily. "But life is dangerous. You live in a town run by beings of questionable species, where angels walk the streets – unacknowledged, but there – and where a corporate superpower run by demons once tried to take over. If you think my life is any less dangerous than yours, then you've missed the point more than a little."

Carlos sighs. "I know. I just… I worry about you."

Tomas reaches over and pats him on the arm. "I worry about you too. But I'll be fine, and so will you. And… you know, I could come visit sometimes, if you want me to."

And Carlos smiles. "I'd like that," he says, and means it. "I want you back in my life. You and Dad. I… forgot how much I miss you."

His twin smiles too. "Then it's settled. Maybe we could all meet up for Christmas. If you think you can handle it…"

"The question, dearest brother," Carlos replies, "is whether _you_ think you can handle multiple rounds of charades with Kevin. And the answer, I will tell you, is that _you are never prepared_ for multiple rounds of charades with Kevin. But I think I'd enjoy watching you try."

Tomas laughs. "You're on. I'm looking forward to it already."

Weirdly, Carlos is too. "That's assuming we get out of this place _by_ Christmas."

"Oh, we'll be out of here long before that," Tomas replies, easily.

"I wish I had your confidence."

"Brother… dearest brother… you _do_. How many cities have you helped liberate, now?"

"…Well, OK, but…"

"Carlos. You may not have untold extra-planar abilities like your _extraordinarily_ hot boyfriends, but you are still more powerful than you realise. Don't forget that."

And the odd thing is, right now… Carlos can almost believe it.

***

As evening draws in – or, at least, what passes for 'evening' when you're underground – Carlos and Tomas head back up to the palace. Tomas wanders off somewhere (best not to ask, given that it could be agency-related) and Carlos goes to find Cecil and Kevin. He expects them to be with Hunter, finalising the details of their first radio broadcast, so he's surprised when the guard he asks waves him out into one of the large courtyards instead.

When he gets there, and sees what's going on, Carlos can't help pausing just out of sight, so he can watch. Because this… he wondered if this might happen.

And by 'wondered', read 'hoped'.

Cecil and Kevin are in the centre of the otherwise empty courtyard. The floor is covered in charcoal markings – Kevin's work, no doubt, and hopefully he's asked permission first, otherwise there are going to be some awkward questions later – and the two men are kneeling opposite each other at the eye of the charcoal storm, much like they were when they summoned the real Huntokar.

"All right, try it again," Kevin says.

Cecil takes a deep breath and then calls out something that sounds like it might be in that weird extra-planar language Kevin speaks, Dzy-an-thyl. The one he learned from the demon he used to work for.

Best not to think about it. When Carlos thinks about it, the questions materialise too quickly, and now is not the time.

But the time is coming.

"Almost, almost," Kevin says, "except you need to roll the last R more. Like this…"

And he repeats the word a couple of times… and OK, Carlos still can't work out what it's even supposed to be. Or how Kevin even knows that there's something approximating a letter R in there.

Cecil sighs, and nods, and then tries it again, and Kevin can clearly tell the difference because he claps his hands together, looking delighted. "Better! I knew you'd pick this stuff up quickly. Now, if you summon something and you need to get rid of it, you can use that little invocation to do so. It won't work on full-sized demons, but we'll start out with lesser extra-planars. I realise it will be far too easy for you, but if you start small and build it up, it will make you even better in the long run."

"I still don't know how you do all this," Cecil says. "It's so complicated. And complex. And… if something goes wrong, it could mean your horrible death. Or the universe being rent in half. Or…"

"Cecil," Kevin interrupts, gently, reaching to take his double's hands. "The universe being rent in half is a very rare side-effect. Even horrible death is rare enough, if you know what you're doing. That's why we'll take this slowly, despite the fact you're more than capable of going straight to the advanced parts."

"I don't feel it."

"I know. But you are. What you did yesterday… it was amazing. And I'm not saying that just because I love you. I told you… I've only ever known one person with that kind of ability, and she was widely regarded as one of the most powerful summoners of the age."

The weight of the untold past lies heavy again, and even more so when Cecil meets Kevin's eyes and asks, "What was she like? Susan Hartley, I mean. I'm… guessing you must have known her quite well."

Kevin nods. "I did. And she… whatever else you could say about her, about what she did, about what she unleashed on my hometown… I have never known anyone so completely in control of their own destiny as Mrs Hartley was. I never once saw her afraid. Never once saw her anything other than utterly sure. Even when she was dying, her certainty did not waver."

"How did she die? I… assumed it must have been something extra-planar…"

"No. Susan Hartley died the way so many humans do: she was old, and she got sick. For such an extraordinary person, she had such an ordinary end."

By now, Carlos can practically feel Cecil bracing himself to ask something more. But, before he can, Kevin's grips his hands again. "Well. That's more than enough reminiscing," he says, in the bright tone he uses when he's deliberately not engaging with something. "Let's try a little summoning."

"This is going to end poorly," Cecil murmurs.

"Nonsense!" Kevin insists. "Now, I know you tried some of this when you were younger, so why don't you show me what you remember and we can go from there? And, this time, you can use that invocation I taught you to get rid of what you've summoned _before_ it causes any major fires."

"…All right," Cecil agrees. "It's going to have to be in Unmodified Sumerian, though."

"That'll be fine," Kevin tells him. "I love the sound of Unmodified Sumerian, and it's archaic enough to placate whatever you're summoning, as much as one ever can. Now… impress me!"

Cecil doesn't look convinced, but he takes a deep breath, letting go of Kevin's hands and raising his own, the posture similar to the one Kevin uses when summoning Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty.

"Oooh, Fourth Plane!" Kevin exclaims, looking delighted. "Show-off!"

This gets him a 'shush, I'm concentrating' expression from Cecil, who pauses for a moment and then chants something in what Carlos guesses must be Unmodified Sumerian. It's only a short invocation, but one that's rapidly accompanied by a spiral of light, which quickly resolves into a small creature standing nearby.

The thing in question is some sort of imp. It's about two feet tall, slender and spiky, with a long tail and large, red eyes. It hisses at its summoner, starting to pace on all fours like an angry cat, flicking its tail at the same time.

Kevin claps his hands together (which makes the creature jump and hiss some more) and beams at Cecil. "Oh, yes, very good!" he exclaims. "I remember when Naomi first taught me how to summon things. Isn't it such _fun_?"

"Well… sort of," Cecil concedes, still watching the imp warily. "But I remind you again that the last time I did this, an entire warehouse burned down."

"Cecil, Cecil, it will be fine," Kevin tells him, calmly, as the imp starts hissing more loudly and baring its teeth, of which it seems to have an inordinately large amount.

"…It doesn't look fine…" Cecil says, tone wavering. "It looks… not good, not good, that is not good…"

By now, the hissing imp looks braced to move, and – just as Cecil, perhaps wisely, starts to try backing away from it – the creature lets out a shriek and leaps at the two doubles, trailing streaks of fire in its wake. There's a terrifying moment – during which Carlos barely manages not to run into view – and then Cecil calls out the invocation in Dzy-an-thyl that he and Kevin were practicing before, at the same moment as grabbing hold of Kevin and pulling them both to the side.

The imp immediately vanishes in a little puff of smoke, leaving the two men sprawled in a tangle on the floor; Kevin laughing and laughing and Cecil still staring upwards as if he doesn't quite believe what's just happened.

"Oh, Cecil, you're amazing," Kevin says, tone as bright as the sun but very much genuine too. "And your pronunciation was spot-on there."

"Forgive me if I was more concerned about the fact that that thing wanted to eat us!" Cecil exclaims, somewhat high-pitched.

Kevin shrugs, as the two of them scramble upright once more. "I doubt it wanted to eat us. Just rend us a little. And I bet with more practice you could have one of those imps eating out _of_ your hand."

From the look Cecil gives him, he disagrees. "Please don't tell me you think we should try that again."

"Sure we should!" Kevin answers. "Lots of times. Until you get _really_ good at it. Plus it _feels_ so very amazing."

"I… beg to differ with you on that one," is Cecil's reply, but from the little waver in his voice, the radio broadcaster doth protest too much.

Kevin claps him on the shoulder. "You'll come around. Trust me. There are people who do this sort of thing _entirely_ for fun. Sure, it's frowned upon – bad etiquette – but it still happens. And doing it _partly_ for fun…"

He deliberately lets that sentiment trail off, beaming some more, before adding, "I have just had the _best_ idea."

"Whenever you say that, I get nervous," Cecil replies.

"No, no, this is a good idea, I promise," Kevin insists. "We could dual-summon Azzie!"

Cecil facepalms. "That is not a good idea."

"No, no, it is, see – we really shouldn't summon an unbound demon because that _is_ dangerous and even with your level of power it would be best to have more practice before trying it. We got lucky with Huntokar, but the next one might decide just to obliterate us from existence and be done with it. But I'm soul-bound to Azzie, so it will be fine."

"Won't he get mad?"

Kevin shrugs. "Probably. But he likes me really. And he's always been nice to you. I guess now we know why."

"You're… sure this is wise?"

"Sure I'm sure!"

"…All right," Cecil concedes. "All right. But if he gets mad, I want it on record that this was your idea."

"Perfect!" Kevin beams, and practically bounces to his feet, holding out a hand to help Cecil up too. "Now, the best way to do this is for me to tell you the summoning chant as we go and for you to be the one who says it. If we're standing close enough together, it should still be my soul-bind that powers the summoning itself. A little unorthodox, I know, but I'm sure it will work."

"I can't do it in that language you speak," Cecil points out. "Linear-B. I don't know that one. Also isn't Linear-B technically the name of a _written_ script?"

"Sure it is! But I can speak it anyway."

"The written script? Not the actual language it relates to?"

"Exactly!"

"How does that even work?"

"It just does. Besides, you have a cat that floats four feet from the ground in the bathroom at the radio station."

"…Touché," Cecil manages.

"Exactly!" Kevin beams again. "And, in answer to your question, Unmodified Sumerian will work just fine. You can translate on the go, right?"

"I… think so."

"Wonderful! Shall we..?"

Cecil doesn't look convinced, but he nods. "If you insist."

And Carlos can't deny that his own heart is racing a little as the two doubles – now both on their feet – stand close together, with Kevin right behind Cecil and facing the same way. Kevin leans to whisper something in Cecil's ear – something Carlos can't hear – before gently taking hold of his hands and lifting them to head-height.

There's a brief pause, and then Kevin starts murmuring in Cecil's ear again, and this time it must be the summoning chant because Cecil starts to call out words in Unmodified Sumerian. That all-too familiar drumbeat cuts the air, and before long the blazing pentagram is flaring into life on the ground. The chant itself becomes a little louder, and more emotional, and there's really no denying that Cecil is getting into it, even if he'd probably deny as much if asked.

And then the final words come and, in a vibrant burst of unholy light, Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty appears in the centre of his own summoning circle.

Cecil gasps and drops back against Kevin, who has hold of him immediately and keeps him on his feet, and, seriously, it should not look _quite_ so hot.

But it does.

Azatothoth, meanwhile, gives an idle stretch of his wings and regards his summoner and his summoner's double with what appears to be confusion.

"Unmodified Sumerian?" the demon rumbles. "Really? And… wait, which of you actually called me here?"

"Both of us did!" Kevin exclaims, happily. "I'm teaching Cecil how to summon extra-planars, on account of how he's super-powerful, and I thought it would be interesting – and fun – if we dual-summoned you! Cecil did the chanting. That's why it was in Unmodified Sumerian."

"…I see," Azatothoth manages, looking like he wants to facepalm.

"Also I need to ask you a question," Cecil cuts in, a little quickly, as if he's speaking before he talks himself out of it.

Azatothoth gives him a very careful look – the kind Carlos has only ever seen him give Naomi Hartley, which is telling in itself. "Go on," he rumbles.

"Yesterday, when I… you know, when I did that _thing_ during the incident in the throneroom… afterwards you said you could feel how powerful I was… _am_ … from the first time we met. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Because it wasn't my place to do so," the demon answers. "Either you knew your own level of power and were keeping it secret, or you didn't know, in which case I was hardly the right one to break the news to you. These things have a way of showing themselves when least expected and most needed. Though, I must say, I was surprised it didn't happen during the incident at the Bloodstone. Perhaps you were not quite ready."

"I'm still not ready," Cecil replies.

"Fate evidently begs to differ," Azatothoth says, and then looks to Kevin. "Am I to take it that this is going to become a regular thing?"

"I'm hoping so," Kevin replies, with an imploring expression. "You… don't mind, do you?"

Azatothoth sighs. "No, Kevin, I don't mind," he answers, in resignation.

Kevin beams. "Great! I knew I could count on you. We've always been _such_ a good team."

"…Quite," the demon concedes. "I do wish you had more enemies for me to smite, though."

"I'm quite happy with the lack of enemies," Cecil points out, and Azatothoth – with that oddly respectful look still in his red eyes – doesn't argue.

"Well, if you don't need me, I should be going," the eight-foot demon says, instead. "Although, before I do… you are aware the scientist is watching you, right?"

Carlos' breath catches at that, especially when Azatothoth turns and looks pointedly in his direction, and – slowly – he steps out of hiding.

"Carlos!" Kevin exclaims, renewed delight in his eyes. "Oh, I do love having an audience."

Azatothoth actually winks at Cecil. "You're welcome," he says, before giving a slight bow of the head and vanishing in another burst of unholy light.

Carlos, meanwhile, paces over to the other two, trying not to look excessively guilty. "Uhm… hey," he starts out, as he gets closer.

"Hey, you," Kevin says, brightly. "How long were you hiding?"

"I wasn't hiding. I was just… watching. I didn't want to interrupt. And… you know…"

He trails off, but the pointed look he's getting from Kevin – and, to a lesser extent, Cecil – makes him keep going again after a moment.

"…the two of you were really hot like that so I thought I'd just… watch. For a while. And…"

Guilt makes him trail off again, but both Cecil and Kevin are smiling now. The two of them are still standing close together – as they were for the summoning – and Cecil reaches out to pull Carlos in, so that he can kiss him whilst Kevin watches over his shoulder.

"Shall we take this inside?" Kevin suggests, when the kiss breaks.

"I think that might be a good idea," Cecil agrees.

So they do.

***

They go to the radio station the next day.

The radio station – Night Vale's radio station, the last of the buildings transported down into Nebolgorod – now stands in the middle of an otherwise empty lot. It's surrounded by a hastily-erected barrier wall, and guarded, but said guards spring quickly aside when they see the group approach.

Hunter himself leads the way, accompanied by Dana and Earl, and followed by Cecil and Kevin, and Carlos too. Tomas has stayed back to keep working on the shrinking tech ("I can manage a few hours on my own without ending the universe!") and their father has gone to keep him company. Steve, meanwhile, is keeping an eye on Earl's scout troupe, who have been retrieved from their usual hiding place and brought up to the palace, now that it's safe.

The radio station being _here_ is weird. It isn't, of course, the first stolen building Carlos has seen, but somehow this one feels stranger than City Hall. It stands unharmed in the middle of its empty lot, the windows dark, and as they get closer both Cecil and Kevin stop and stare at it.

"This is weird," Cecil manages.

"It is certainly that," Kevin concurs.

"I've had our people connect the building to the power grid," Hunter tells them, "so you should be able to get everything functioning without too much difficulty."

"Especially with a brilliant scientist to help us," Cecil points out, whilst Carlos tries not to blush.

Inside, the dark and empty corridors seem foreboding, and they all pause in the doorway.

"I hope Station Management aren't still in here," Cecil whispers, standing a little closer to Kevin (which really is terribly cute).

"According to those two guys from the agency, they left the building with everyone else," Dana says, taking a step forward. "So we should be safe."

At this point, a low, alarming purr cuts the air, and Cecil jumps at once. "Khoshekh?!" he exclaims. "Khoshekh's still here!"

And he sets off running in the direction of the bathrooms.

"Khoshekh?" Hunter repeats, looking at the others in confusion.

"Cecil's cat," Kevin explains. "Or… we think he's a cat. He's certainly… cat-like."

Intrigued, Hunter sets off after his brother, with everyone else trailing along behind him. When they arrive, they see that it is indeed Khoshekh, still floating four feet above the ground in a fixed point, next to one of the sinks, with his kittens at various points around the room.

Carlos has tried many times to work out precisely what is going on with Khoshekh. _Kevin_ has tried many times to work out precisely what is going on with Khoshekh. And when neither science nor extra-planar knowledge could provide answers, they've both been forced to conclude that Khoshekh just _is_.

"How's my baby boy?" Cecil says, petting the cat and fussing over him, whilst Khoshekh mrowls and accepts the attention.

"That's a cat?" Hunter manages, staring at the floating creature in surprise. "I mean… I haven't seen one in years, but… did they always have so many spines? And… tendrils?"

"Sure they did!" Cecil insists. "You want to pet him too? I bet he'll like you. He's _very_ friendly."

"I'm… good," his brother replies, looking somewhat nervous.

"I'm going to go get the power back on," Carlos says, deciding maybe they'd better move this along.

"I'll come help," Dana tells him. "It's been a while, but… I haven't forgotten this building's little eccentricities."

***

'Eccentricities', it turns out, is quite an understatement. Carlos is confident he's never had a fuse-box try to _bite_ him, and it's just a good thing that Dana is on-hand with a broom handle before things get unpleasant.

"No wonder this place loses so many interns!" Carlos exclaims, as he and Dana manage to force the whatever-it-is back into the closet next to the break room.

"I know, right?" Dana agrees. "You had to learn to expect danger everywhere. It was a very formative time for me."

Despite the hostile equipment, they eventually manage to get the power back on, and the lights flick into life along all of the corridors, the low hum of the air conditioning starting to drone softly in the background. It's oddly soothing.

"I'm glad that's over," Dana says, leaning on the wall as they both catch their breath. "I certainly don't miss this part."

"What about the rest of it?" Carlos finds himself asking. "Interning, I mean." He's not sure where the question comes from, but, then again, he's not sure he's ever had a proper one-on-one conversation with the young mayor before. And yet she's one of the most fascinating people he knows.

Dana considers the question for a moment before she answers. "Yes and no. I mean… nothing really compares to being mayor. To having all these decisions to make, all this responsibility… but I guess I do miss it sometimes. Workplace hazards aside. I learned so much when I was here and it was… you know. A simpler time. And yes, I know I must keep moving forward. We all must. But… it can be good to look back."

"You're the best thing to happen to Night Vale in a long time," Carlos says, suddenly. "The change you've effected, the good you've done…"

Dana blushes a little. "I've tried to do right by my town. By all its people. But… I think the best thing to happen to Night Vale in a long time is you."

Carlos blushes even more, and can't meet her eyes. "I'm not. I…"

She puts a hand on his arm. "Carlos. This is the third city you've saved in as many years."

"It wasn't just me. Lots of us saved Night Vale. And even more of us saved Desert Bluffs. I just… did what was right."

"You did more than just what was right. You're a hero."

Now Carlos does meet her eyes. "I'm not a hero. I'm a scientist."

Dana smiles, and pats his arm with a knowing look on her face. "I think maybe you can be both."

***

Before long, they're set up in the broadcast studio: Cecil and Kevin in their usual places, with Hunter, Dana and Earl sitting opposite them, and Carlos at the end of the table where he can watch.

And listen. He never tires of listening. Especially when his two chiral boyfriends are saving the world through the medium of community radio, which seems to happen a lot.

"I've got the equipment tuned to the main frequency used here in Nebolgorod," Carlos tells them. "Earl helped me with that one. It should be strong enough for everyone to pick up, though I doubt anyone in Night Vale will catch it, unless they have a very powerful antenna."

Which means it's probably for the best that Steve Carlsberg is already down here and knows what's going on, otherwise there would be a lot of awkward questions when they finally got home.

"In that case, I think we're good to go," Cecil replies, with a smile.

He and Kevin exchange a look (the kind that Carlos finds especially distracting) and then familiar lights flick on, and they're live.

 _"A hidden underground community where the sky is irrelevant, the air itself keeps secrets, and mysterious giants live up above in the realm of the Overworld,"_ Cecil starts out.

 _"Welcome,"_ Kevin continues, _"to Nebolgorod."_

 _"Greetings, listeners,"_ Cecil now says. _"We should begin by introducing ourselves. My name is Cecil…"_

_"…and I'm Kevin…"_

_"…and this is our inaugural broadcast in the great city of Nebolgorod. Much has happened in the last few days, and we are here to set the record straight about it. About all of it."_

_"To start things off,"_ Kevin goes on, _"we have three guests here in the studio with us. And it is important, for everything that will follow, that we begin by allowing them to address you directly."_

 _"And so,"_ Cecil continues, _"our first guest today is none other than Huntokar, the Mighty, the Benevolent, ruler of Nebolgorod. But that isn't the only name you go by, is it?"_

Hunter takes a deep breath and then – to his credit – answers without hesitation. _"No. No, it isn't. People of Nebolgorod… you have followed me for many years. I have led you, guided you, watched over you, always striving to do what I believed was right for this city and all its people. But… I have made mistakes. I admit that. And today… today I want to take the first steps towards putting things right."_

He pauses a moment, looking up and meeting his brother's eyes, and Cecil leans across the table, gripping Hunter's hand for a moment.

 _"For starters,"_ Hunter goes on, _"I am not the real Huntokar, though I have it on good authority that the real Huntokar approves of me more than I expected. My name is Hunter Kendrick Palmer, and I was born in the Upperworld. Unknown forces brought me to Nebolgorod, and fate gave me the name Huntokar… and I tried to be the leader that this incredible city needed. That all of you needed. I know many of you will be angered by my deception… but I hope, at the same time, you will see the good I have done."_

_"And there is more. You surely all know by now that a group from the Upperworld City, Night Vale, walks among us. That their numbers include the Demon of the Upperworld, and the Sender of the Overball. At first, I believed they were here to destroy us. To ally themselves with the Acolytes of the Overball and rip this city apart. I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. They are not here to destroy us. They are here to heal the schism within this city, and to heal the schism with the Upperworld. And the Sender of the Overball… is my brother, Cecil."_

_"There will be peace, Nebolgorod. The Followers of Huntokar and the Acolytes of the Overball can and will co-exist here in the city that both call home. And that is why I am speaking to you today alongside Earl Harlan, a key member of the Acolytes' movement, and a man of exceptional courage."_

Earl actually blushes, and Carlos finds himself looking between the two men; sure, now, that something more than political friendship is going on.

Though this, of course, is not the time to question it.

 _"I have only ever wanted two things,"_ Earl says. _"Freedom for the Acolytes, and safety for the group of young people I protect: those whose parents and families were taken when their homes were stolen. Homes that will soon be returned, in full. Like Hunter, I was not born in Nebolgorod. And, like Hunter… I now call this city home. I will not abandon it. I couldn't."_

 _"We are also joined today,"_ Kevin now picks up, _"by Dana Cardinal, Mayor of Night Vale, who speaks for the Overworld."_

 _"People of Nebolgorod,"_ Dana starts out, _"it is my great honour and privilege to be with you. Our two cities have been enemies for as long as we have known about each other… but now, all that is changing. There will be peace between Night Vale and Nebolgorod. The buildings – taken by the vague-yet-menacing government agency that operates within my city – will be returned. And I hope with all of my heart that we can make this a new beginning for the record books: something that we can be proud to have been part of."_

 _"Well, with those introductions done, let's get to some questions,"_ Cecil says. _"If any listeners out there want to try calling into the station to pose questions of your own, we'd be happy to take your calls. No one here is quite sure if this building – which is from Night Vale – is capable of receiving such messages, but we're ready to find out if you are! That's the spirit of community radio, after all."_

 _"It sure is, Cecil,"_ Kevin agrees, brightly. _"It sure is."_

And, as the show unfolds, it transpires that the people of Nebolgorod _can_ call in. Many have questions. Some are afraid. Some angry. Some pleased. It's clear that stability won't come overnight… but, at the same time, it's also clear that nigh-on everyone is hopeful.

Carlos smiles as he listens. They fixed it. Somehow, amazingly, they fixed it. And now, only one challenge remains.

Finding a way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter to go! Eeek! The next one will consist primarily of wrapping everything up, and then this part will be DONE. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me this far... I hope I've made the waiting worth it!
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: A big damn happy ending. And not me lulling you all into a false sense of security before Part Four. Nah-ah. Not that...


	12. Clean Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers, one and all... THIS IS IT! The final chapter of this part! Welcome... to the Big Damn Happy Ending!

**Clean Game**

_A single game of bowling where the player achieves a spare or strike in all ten frames; a string of victories._

***

It's two more days before Carlos and Tomas make their game-changing breakthrough. They run the numbers three times, and then they stand and stare at the chalkboard they've had set up (because these things simply cannot be _done_ without a chalkboard).

And then, without Carlos having to think about it, they high-five. And he isn't even sorry.

On the contrary, the more he stares at what they've worked out, the more he can't stop smiling. He and Tomas immediately go running to find the others, and it seems they're back from their latest afternoon of broadcasting because they find Cecil and Kevin in that charcoal-scrawled courtyard.

It's a shame they can't stay and watch, though, because when they arrive Cecil is sitting cross-legged with one of those pointy imp-things balanced on his knee, and the two of them seem to be getting along remarkably well. Kevin is close by, watching with a look of stunned delight in his eyes, and it's only the frantic excitement on Carlos and Tomas' faces that snaps them out of their reverie.

"What is it?" Cecil asks at once, making the imp fade from view with a handwave (and making Kevin look even _more_ delighted). "What's happened?"

"We did it," Carlos breathes. "The building-stealing tech. I think we've got it worked out. We can put everything back in its right place – and size – and it shouldn't take much more to get a permanent two-way portal set up."

"I knew you could do it!" Kevin exclaims, bouncing to his feet and offering Cecil a hand to help him up. "You're both so smart."

"We should tell Hunter," Tomas points out. "And the others. And I need to find the two guys from the agency, so they can start making arrangements to return the stolen houses."

Carlos can't help beaming some more. They did it. They actually did it. They can put all this right. Plus, sooner or later, they'll be able to go home, and he's glad about that. Even if he is getting weirdly fond of Nebolgorod, now it's stopped trying to kill him all the time.

The four of them hurry into the Cathedral of Huntokar, and ask the nearest guard where Hunter is.

"In the throneroom," the woman tells them, and they thank her and head towards it.

Pushing one of those huge doors open, they step in… and all four men promptly stop dead when they realise they have quite clearly walked in on something.

Hunter is here. Earl is also here. This on its own is not surprising. What _is_ surprising (except perhaps not, when you pause to think about it) is that Hunter is seated in the throne at the head of the room, up on the dais, and Earl is on top of him, straddling his hips, and the two of them are engaged in the kind of frantic making-out that makes you worry the participants have forgotten that oxygen exists.

The four men in the doorway all freeze and stare. The two men on the throne keep kissing for about five more seconds, then both seem to process that they're no longer alone. Earl gives a little squeak of shock and then leaps off Hunter, who in turn springs to his feet, and then both of them stand somewhat awkwardly, staring at the group who've just come in with the kind of desperate fake-innocence that has never fooled anyone.

The moment is finally shattered when Kevin breaks into applause. "About time!" he exclaims. "If you two had dragged this out much longer, I would've suggested locking you both in a closet somewhere!"

"You… knew?" Earl manages.

"It wasn't exactly subtle," Tomas points out. "You had that whole 'two houses both alike in dignity' thing going on, except without the angsty ending."

This makes Carlos stare at him. "What?" his brother says, easily. "I have hidden depths!"

"You… don't mind?" Hunter now manages.

"Mind?" Cecil repeats, looking as delighted as Kevin does. "My long-lost brother and my childhood best friend? It's perfect!"

Earl and Hunter both blush a little at that, and Hunter reaches to take Earl's hand. "It just sort of… happened," Hunter says. "And… we're on the same side now, and Earl's staying here, so… it's OK. And I found him intriguing all the time we were supposedly enemies, but we never got the chance to meet, and now…"

"I know the feeling," Cecil replies, with a smile. "And I'm happy for you. Both of you. Also… we have good news."

"You do?" Earl says.

"We think we've worked out the shrinking tech," Carlos says. "Tomas and I ran the numbers three times to make sure. All being well… we should be able to start work on returning the stolen buildings as early as tomorrow."

"This is wonderful news," Hunter replies, looking like a man who's had a massive weight lifted off his shoulders. "I'll have my people start making preparations within the city. It's going to take some doing, but to make it work… to make Nebolgorod whole again…"

"I'll contact the two guys from the agency," Tomas now says. "They're in touch with our bosses on the surface, and they can make the arrangements to have the stolen buildings brought to a safe location. Somewhere close enough for the tech to lock onto them."

"We should tell our dad," Carlos adds. "And Dana too. And Steve… where _is_ Steve?"

Hunter and Earl exchange a look, and a grin. "Oh… you don't know yet, do you?" Earl says. "Steve's… you should come see. You'll love it. Well, Cecil probably won't, but the rest of you will."

"What did he do this time?" Cecil sighs.

Still hand-in-hand with Hunter (and oh, but the two of them make an adorable couple), Earl leads them all out of the throneroom via a different door, and along to another large room close by. As they step in, they see that the entire troupe of miniature scouts is here, seated in a circle around Steve Carlsberg, all staring at him with rapt attention.

"…and that's why the Overworld government _wants_ you to think the moon landings were faked," he's in the middle of saying. "But we truth-seekers, we know that the moon landings were real, _and_ we know what they were _actually_ covering up…"

"Can we be truth-seekers too, Mr Carlsberg?" Misha asks, staring at Steve as though his every word reveals the secrets of the universe.

"You sure can," Steve tells him. "You all can. The greatest truth-seeker I know helped us save the whole world only a few months ago, and she's thirteen. And she started truth-seeking when she was only eight!"

"Merciless Azatothoth, this is _adorable_ ," Kevin murmurs.

Perhaps in recognition of this, Cecil limits his response to a scowl.

"Oh, hey, you guys," Steve says, looking over at them. "I've just been telling the scouts here all about my adventures in truth-seeking. They're great kids, the lot of them."

It's at this point that he evidently processes that something is going on. "What's happened?"

"Tomas and I have gotten the shrinking tech working both ways," Carlos answers. "We're going to start putting all the buildings back where they're supposed to be."

"Oh, nice work!" Steve exclaims. "Totally knew you could do it."

"So… are you going home, Mr Harlan?" Irina asks.

Earl smiles. "I am home, Irina. Nebolgorod is where I belong now. I'm staying here. But all the buildings are going to be put back where they're supposed to be."

Several of the children gasp. "Did we win?" Misha squeaks.

"We did," Earl says, and then he takes Hunter's hand and smiles again. "We all did."

***

The Day of the Lost Buildings is one that Nebolgorod will remember for years to come.

Technically, it isn't one day, it's three, but the first sees parties across the city as – on lots that have lain vacant and empty for far too long – buildings start to reappear.

It's a complex process. They have to make sure each lot is safely empty, and – due to some labelling errors on the part of the agents responsible for storing the buildings up in Night Vale – some structures end up in not quite the right places.

But it's close enough. Carlos isn't quite sure how Tomas and his two agency colleagues have pulled it off, but they have. He stands, high up one of the towers of the immense structure housing the technology, watching as building after building is returned to its rightful place. The process is slow at first, but once they're more confident about it, they're able to move quite quickly.

What's more amazing is the number of lost Nebolgorodians who turn up inside the buildings. A picture starts to emerge, of a community in exile formed by the missing people underneath the warehouse where the stolen buildings were stored, and of the semi-messianic figure known only as You, who they believe was sent as a sign that their time in exile was coming to an end.

Carlos can only wonder at how the Emissaries of You will fit into the ever-growing Nebolgorodian pantheon. Kevin clearly finds it fascinating, and spends most of the three days helping with the recovery interviews, as the lost people are welcomed home.

"This has been quite an experience," says a voice at Carlos' back, and he turns to see his father approaching.

"Not what you expected?" his son replies, with a self-aware smile.

"Not exactly," Atilio answers. "I didn't quite know what to expect, to be honest… but this is certainly not it."

"I'm sorry for all the peril. I didn't mean for there to be peril. It just… follows me around."

His father smiles. "So I've noticed. But, Carlos… I came to see you in the first place because I wanted to know if you were all right, and it didn't take long to convince me that you are. More than all right. I've never known you to be so happy… and I remember how you were when you were working on your thesis."

"That was a _good_ one," Carlos sighs, in happy remembrance. "But… you're right. Even though peril does seem to follow me around, the last couple of years have been amazing. World-changing."

"I see that. And I'm glad. And… I hope maybe we can keep in better contact now. I've missed you."

Carlos looks a little sheepish. "I… mentioned I was sorry about that, right?"

"You did. And it's OK. And… I'd like to come visit again, if you'll have me."

"I will. I definitely will. And Tomas too. He…" Carlos looks down. "I missed him as well."

Atilio pats him on the arm. "I know. I didn't think it would take something as insane as all this to get you to admit it, but I'm glad you worked it out. He adores you, you know."

"I know." I sort of adore him too. Maybe. "And… Cecil and Kevin..?"

"I wasn't sure what to think when you told me there were two of them," his father admits. "But it didn't take long for me to see that they're both devoted to you, and to each other. And if that's not the foundation of a good relationship, I don't know what is."

"They saved me," Carlos says, softly. "I was lost before I found them. And, since I did… I feel like a different person. A better person."

Atilio smiles. "That's love for you."

He pauses a moment, and then headtilts towards the door leading inside. "Tomas says he's almost ready to put City Hall and the radio station back. You should go help."

Carlos nods. "Lead the way."

***

In the end, the returning of the Night Valean buildings goes off without a hitch, despite Carlos worrying a little because they haven't sent anything that way yet. But within moments, word comes through from Night Vale that City Hall is back in its rightful place and size, and that the radio station has returned as well.

Several of them are standing around in the central control room of the building-teleporting structure, to watch the final steps of the process take place. When Tomas' phone rings and the success is confirmed, everyone breaks into applause.

"You're brilliant," Cecil says to Carlos and Tomas. "I knew you could do it."

"Well, you know us and science," Carlos replies, a little sheepishly, whilst Tomas claps him on the shoulder.

"All we've gotta do now is put back the two buildings that should be on the lots where City Hall and the radio station were, then fine-tune the two-way portal, and our work here is done!" Tomas says, brightly.

At this point, there's an odd sound from the corner; a sound like someone clearing their throat, if their throat and everything else about them was composed entirely of gravel. _"Aren't you forgetting something?"_

They all turn to see a single hooded figure lurking at the edge of the shadows, and, as they do, Carlos can't help murmuring a soft, "…Ah, _that's_ what we missed…"

It's the Invisible Clocktower Watchman.

"Oh," Cecil says, the first of them to manage to respond. "Watchman. We…"

_"…neglected to recall the part where you left me in the clocktower whilst you 'went to have a look around'. You realise that was more than a week ago, right?"_

"Uhm… yes?" Kevin replies. "Also, didn't you say you never leave the clocktower?"

_"I don't. This is the first time. Now, please put my tower back before I get cross."_

"We were totally going to do that," Carlos insists. "We didn't forget. We really didn't."

They did a little. Though, in his defence, it feels like they've been down here a lot longer than a week and a half.

Somehow, the Watchman manages to give him an unconvinced look despite not having visible eyes. Or a visible face.

_"I am returning to my tower. Please put it back."_

"We will," Carlos says. "We promise."

They wait in slightly stunned silence whilst the hooded Watchman withdraws from sight.

"…We should get right on that," Tomas points out.

"Yes," Carlos agrees, hastily. "Yes, we should."

***

Their last night in Nebolgorod is quite an occasion.

With the two-way portal established, it's tested by the man who is not tall and the man who is not short. They insist on being the first to leave – and on taking Alex Vasquez with them as they go.

The man in question scowls a lot and refuses to speak to anyone, Hunter especially. Carlos can't help thinking this is for the best.

When word comes through that the teleportation has been successful, and that the three men are on the surface, and returned to normal size, everyone breathes a sigh of relief. They can go home. And, perhaps just as crucially, they can come back.

With that vital news confirmed, they're free to enjoy their last night in Nebolgorod to the full. Hunter throws a massive party at the palace, attended by various people from the Followers, the Acolytes and, indeed, the Emissaries of You. Everything goes surprisingly well, and Carlos can't help thinking that it's a good sign this whole arrangement will work in the long run. He knows there will be difficulties along the way, but with Hunter and Earl keeping the Followers and the Acolytes together, and the Emissaries just delighted to be home, things seem promising.

"So… looks like the Demon of the Upperworld saved Nebolgorod," Hunter remarks with a smile.

"Helped," Carlos replies. "Helped save Nebolgorod."

"And the Sender of the Overball too," Earl adds, smiling at Cecil. "How does it feel to be part of a cultural pantheon?"

"Weird," Cecil admits. "But… I guess I'm OK with it."

"And we spent all that time around actual government agents, and they didn't try to wipe our brains or anything!" Steve exclaims, which makes Cecil scowl at him. Although… less than he usually would.

"I… may have had a hand in that," Tomas says, with a grin.

"You did?" Steve replies, wide-eyed again. "Can you tell me about it?"

"Ah, Steve, Steve, I could, see, but then I'd have to kill you."

Steve pulls off quite a pout. "Awww."

"There's… something else I wanted to say," Hunter now starts off. "To ask, really. I… was sort of hoping to come to Night Vale with you tomorrow. To… visit for a few days, if you'll have me."

"I'm so glad you want to," Cecil replies, looking delighted. "We can go see our sister. And… you haven't even met your niece! And… Earl, are you coming too?"

Earl nods. "I'd like to. Nebolgorod may be my home now, but I miss Night Vale."

"Then it's settled," Kevin says, clapping his hands together. "We're going to have quite a houseful!"

"I'll be pleased to get back to work," Dana tells them. "I've been in touch with Pamela and Trish and apparently things have been a little… fraught."

"I take it City Council weren't happy about losing City Hall for so long?" Cecil asks.

"Definitely not," Dana replies. "Turns out that Station Management felt the same about their home. According to Trish, both City Council and Station Management took over the old skating rink at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex and refused to come out. Teddy Williams wasn't pleased, but there wasn't much he could do. City Council and Station Management both ended up curled in balls on the rink, howling away, until all of a sudden they ended up curled in _one_ ball. Together."

Cecil stares. "Wait… you mean… _together_ together?"

Dana nods. "Yep."

"City Council and Station Management?!"

"Yep. They're a thing now. Trish says it's adorable. And existentially terrifying."

"That's… kinda typical for Night Vale, though," Cecil points out.

"Very true," Dana agrees.

Sometimes it is best not to question these things.

***

The next day comes, and Carlos can't quite believe this is it. They're going home. Nebolgorod is saved, and they're going home.

Hunter leaves a council of three of his top generals in charge. Though, by this point, there are several cellphones in Nebolgorod that can contact phones on the surface, so he can keep in touch with them whilst he's away. And moreover, the same phones will mean he and Earl can keep in touch with friends and family on the surface once they return to the miniature city.

Earl's scout troupe all come to see him off, even though he'll be back in a few days. Mercifully, every last one has been reunited with their missing parents – many of whom are here too – and Carlos knows it would be much harder for Earl to go, even briefly, had any of the children been left orphaned.

Nevertheless, it's obvious he's going to miss them, and vice-versa.

The teleportation portal has been set up in a secure room within the huge structure housing the building-stealing technology. It can safely take up to three people at once, so they have to go in batches. The portal itself, Carlos still finds a little unsettling, given that everyone knows classic – if hypothetical – teleportation technology works by killing a person and instantly creating an identical copy at the target location.

This setup, however, doesn't. And whilst it is reassuring to Carlos that he and the most important people in his life aren't about to get beamed to death and replaced by copies of themselves, he's also aware that this is because the tech seems to cycle its occupants to their destination via some unknown dimension of spacetime. And, even though he has a boyfriend who regularly summons _demons_ , Carlos still finds the whole concept decidedly _weird_.

He'd love to know how Alex Vasquez _found_ this size-altering unknown dimension of spacetime, though he doubts the man would ever deign to tell him.

Still. If it works, it works. Sometimes science requires going with what works.

Steve, Dana and Atilio go first. They step into the portal device, which consists of three heavy metal rings that cycle around each other to form a sphere of energy that surrounds the passengers standing within, over and over for five alarmingly long seconds until, with a flash, they're gone.

"…Oh, I hope this works," Carlos murmurs.

"It'll be fine," Tomas insists. "We tested it, remember?"

Somehow, this is not as ressuring to Carlos as his twin clearly thinks it should be.

He, Cecil and Kevin go next. They step inside the device, and Carlos finds himself gripping hands with both of his boyfriends as the portal powers up and those three rings spin over and around them, faster and faster until…

…there's a flash, and they're immediately inside an identical device in a completely different place. Carlos blinks around for a few seconds, running his hands over his own chest as if that would somehow reassure him that he still exists, and then breathes out.

"That was _cool_ ," Kevin says, sounding delighted. "Science is such fun, isn't it?"

"When it isn't terrifying," Carlos manages to reply, as the three of them step out of the portal.

They've appeared inside what is clearly a large, metal-walled shack. There's gaps in the metal here and there, but no light filtering in, and Carlos remembers that Nebolgorodian time is slightly ahead of Night Valean time. About nine hours, in fact. Which means that he's gone from late morning back to the middle of the night.

So. There goes his sleep cycle, at least for a day or two.

There's a sudden whirr, and Carlos turns around in time to watch the portal activate again, and the last group – Hunter, Earl and Tomas – appears in a flash.

"That was _amazing_!" Tomas exclaims, practically bouncing down from the portal and flinging his arms around Carlos. "Can we go again?"

"No, Tomas," Carlos replies at once. "Also, how did your colleagues in the agency get this place set up so fast?"

Tomas shrugs. "They're good at what they do. Once I told them how to construct this thing from the old tech Alex left behind, it wasn't difficult. And now we have a permanent portal between here and Nebolgorod."

It is kind of amazing. And also a little terrifying.

They head over to the shack's single door, opening it and stepping out onto flat, empty desert. Helpfully, a minivan is waiting for them, but there's nothing else around – the shack stands all alone in the middle of nowhere – although the distant lights of Night Vale are visible on the horizon. And, overhead… stars. A glittering, wonderful tapestry of stars.

Carlos can't quite believe how much he missed them, or the feeling of the desert air. Or the knowledge that he's finally the right size again.

The shack itself doesn't seem to have any kind of security devices in place; only a sign fixed to the door that reads: 'No Entry'.

"…Will that keep people out?" Atilio wonders aloud.

"Sure it will," Cecil replies. "This is Night Vale, remember?"

Then he looks sideways at where Hunter and Earl are standing, hand in hand, staring at the lights on the horizon.

"You ready for this?" Cecil asks, gently.

"Yes," his brother answers. "Yes."

And Cecil smiles. "Welcome back to Night Vale."

***

It's three days later.

Hunter and Earl's time in Night Vale has been busy, and more than a little emotional, and surprisingly delightful. Earl gets the chance to reunite with his old scout troupe, whilst Hunter gets to see his sister and meet his niece, and there's a few tears, and a great deal more laughter.

Tomas, meanwhile, squeals with delight when he sees Carlos' lab back home, and then insists on going to meet his whole team. And, despite the fact he tells one or two stories that Carlos would really rather _not_ see the light of day, he can't deny that the whole experience is actually a lot of fun.

And, for their final evening in Night Vale, before they're due to return to Nebolgorod the next morning, Cecil asks Hunter and Earl what they'd like to do.

"…Bowling?" Earl suggests, carefully.

Cecil looks relieved. "I thought you'd never ask."

***

They all get together at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex; the entirety of Team Nebolgorod. Even Dana comes along, insisting she wouldn't miss it, and that she enjoys the chance to just be Dana instead of Mayor Cardinal every once in a while.

So here they are: Cecil, Kevin, Carlos and Tomas on one team, with Hunter, Earl, Dana and Steve on the other, and Atilio – at his own request – keeping score.

And it all feels so gloriously normal. Yes, most of the people here are anything but, and yet, right now… they're just a group of friends and family enjoying an evening out.

"You guys are coming for Christmas, right?" Carlos says to Tomas and their father, as Kevin steps up to bowl.

"Absolutely," Tomas promises, beaming. "I can't wait."

"Me neither," Atilio agrees.

Carlos smiles. "I'm looking forward to it. And you guys are coming as well?" he adds, looking over at Hunter and Earl, who are currently sitting adorably close whilst it's Steve's turn to bowl for their team.

"Definitely," Hunter answers. "Also, given that we don't have Christmas in Nebolgorod, it won't exactly be hard to get the time off."

"You don't have Christmas?" Cecil says. "What do you have?"

"Well, there's a festival called Followers' Day," Earl explains. "It's kind of like Christmas, except with slightly more regimented battle demonstrations."

"Sounds great!" Kevin breathes, as he heads back over and settles next to Cecil. "We should totally go!"

"We could even make a cultural exchange out of it," Dana suggests.

"Yeah, it'd be great for the kids!" Steve agrees, and Cecil doesn't even disagree with him.

At this point, Kevin claps Carlos on the shoulder. "Your turn," he says, headtilting towards the lanes.

"All right," Carlos says. "Though don't expect miracles. You know I'm no good at this."

He really isn't. Though that doesn't make it any less fun.

"Awww, Carlos, you know it's the taking part that counts!" Kevin insists, brightly.

"And the winning," Cecil adds, with a grin. "Also the winning."

Carlos gives them both a look as he gets up, taking a ball from the rack and stepping close to the line.

Inhale. Exhale. Try not to think too much about shot angles because apparently that makes him less good, not more so.

Then Carlos takes the shot, watching as the ball races along the lane, and suddenly not daring to breathe as it curves at the last second, striking the first pin head-on…

…and sending all ten tumbling to the deck.

And the scientist turns, beaming from ear to ear.

"Strike!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And we're done! I cannot quite believe this part is finally complete. To everyone who has made it this far - and especially those who stuck with me despite the months of nothing - I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> What comes next? Part Four comes next! It will be starting up very soon, mostly because I already have two and a half chapters written, so once that third one is done, you'll get all three at once. And then... then we swing into the grand finale for this series, towards which I've been building for far too long. I can't wait to get to it. I have some _huge_ stuff planned.
> 
> In the meantime, if you have not yet read the Chiralityverse prequel, [A Song of Blood and Sunlight](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4055455/chapters/9125632), I highly recommend you do before Part Four starts to appear. It's absolutely crucial to the plot, and the opening of Part Four thoroughly spoils all of its big reveals. Plus, you get 100k of Kevin's backstory, including how he met Naomi and Darla, how he got his soul-bind with Azzie, and the crucial moments in his initial relationship with Carlos (including a smut-tastic sequence that doesn't appear anywhere else). You also get one of the most painful scenes I've ever written ever, in anything, as well as one of the most screwed-up relationships. Because balance is fun!
> 
> And thank you again to everyone who is still with me in this 'verse. I love writing it more than I could say, and being back on a roll at last is pure joy. I hope to see you all in Part Four... and brace yourselves.
> 
> The last revolution is coming.


End file.
